"JD" <[email hidden]> wrote in message
news:[email hidden]...
Quoted message said:So, I decide that active rest was to run downtown on the cruiser today
to accomplish various tasks. At one point I used a left turn lane and
made a safe left turn onto a sidestreet from a main artery. Well,
after I finish my turn some goatee-wearing putz passenger in a black
pickup yells at me in passsing to get out of the street. I can hear
the traffic slowing for a signal the direction the offensive creep is
headed, so I decide to cut down an alley to see exactly what his
malfunction is. The truck was stopped at the light and I slid right
up next to it and yelled into the face of the goatee punk, "YOU GOT
SOMETHING TO SAY (insert expletive here)?!?!?" A look of disbelief is
the first thing out of him as he stared blankly into the face of the
[censored] bicycle rider who was obviously much bigger than he. Then
his look turns to smug as he rolls the window up, saying "Huh?" at the
same time. "Just what I thought, you're a (insert expletives here)."
Of course, the fat [censored] (who was also wearing a goatee) who was
driving decided to not give chase, as I gave them plenty of
opportunity to do so as I rode off. Some people's kids...
Nice work Jock, I'm damned proud of ya. Car wielding [censored] asshats [censored]
me right the hell off, and I see enough of them.
Yesterday, commuting home from work, on a section of wide road with a good
cycle lane, I came upon a car waiting to turn right into his drive way, and
another car stopped just behind, waiting to pass.
As I came up to just in front of the side of this pair, riding in the cycle
lane, I hear the loud blast of a horn, right behind me, making me jump out
my damned skin. I looked back and right at the two cars, but they didn't
seem to be the culprits. Looked over my left shoulder, and right the hell
behind me, half on pavement, half in the cycle lane, is some impatient
[censored] of a postal worker in a big red collection van trundling up toward
me, trying to get to the post box to my side.
I gave him the finger, the [censored] sine, glared and shouted. Damned [censored],
making me nervous to save himself 30 freaking seconds (I thoroughly
_DESPISE_ horn abusers). So, I carry on, and he tears past me after doing
his thing with the post box, wide birth, fast as hell, trying no doubt to
get to the next box and away before I caught up.
Still, caught the [censored] at the next box, he saw me coming and crouched behind
it trying to hide, wimp. That gave me my satisfaction, so I just called him
a [censored] [censored] [censored] and carried on home.
I don't think there's a single day on this short commute where a driver
doesn't [censored] me off.
Cheers, and stay safe.
Shaun aRe