Once again, I have just had it proven to me that in order for a cyclist to get a motor vehicle
driver really, really angry, the cyclist doesn't have to:
a) behave unpredictably (weave in and out of traffic, fail to signal, etc.)
b) cut people off
c) do anything else illegal according to the rules of the road
No. All the cyclist has to do--with some drivers, anyway--is this:
d) Get in the left lane.
It doesn't matter that the right lane is a "right turn only" lane and you're going straight. It
doesn't matter that you're about to make a left turn and signaling it with vigor well in advance. It
doesn't matter if the vehicle behind you is a thousand feet away, and is never going to beat you to
the front of the lane or the next spot in it as you move there.
They just don't want you there. Period. And they will let you know, either through horn honking or
other more intense means.
It happened to me again. I was coming up to a four-way intersection with a blinking red, getting
ready to make my left turn. The nearest car behind me was far, far away. I moved into the left lane
while signaling left, stopped (briefly) and signaled again while making the turn. By that time, the
car behind me had pulled up right behind me and the driver was vehemently yelling "What the hell do
you think this is, a*****e?"
Taking the advice some of you have given me--which is that nothing ticks these guys off more than a
friendly reply--I refrained from giving the other answers on the tip of my tongue:
e) "A road, which I have the right to be on?"
f) "The left side of the road--that you're supposed to use to, you know, make left turns?"
g) "A blinking red light that means we're supposed to stop?"
h) "Sunday?"
Instead, I yelled "Have a nice day!" at him after he tore straight ahead.
"SHUT UP!" he yelled.
"Have a nice day!" I yelled again as he drove out of sight, pleased in the knowledge that he would
no longer be able to retort, and hoping that the knowledge that I got the last word--and it was a
cheery one--would leave him in a lingering state of consternation and frustrated anger that would
leave him not knowing what to do but to search for some other attackable outlet. I just hope he
didn't go home and kick the dog and beat his wife. Or go home and kick the wife and beat his dog.
But it wouldn't really surprise me if he did. Guys like these are Biffs--and if you've ever seen the
"Back to the Future" movies, you know what I mean. They think they're big bullies, but they're
actually quite stupid. The kind of guys whose idea of a brilliant retort is something like "Why
don't you make like a tree and...get outta here!"
I know we'll always have the Biffs with us. It's a shame, though, that so many of them have driver's
licenses and simply cannot tolerate the idea of a cyclist in the left lane, ever. On the way back, I
stopped and made a left turn, and the driver behind me, as is the case with some of them,
fortunately, simply sat and waited until the traffic cleared and didn't get his knickers in a knot.
Now he wasn't a Biff.
Oh, and speaking of Biffs...I had a good laugh on one the other day. It was midday and traffic was
pretty busy, and a lot of cars were parked on the side of the road as well, and one guy behind me
did not like the fact that I was taking the lane ahead of him so as to give myself sufficient room
to avoid getting doored. Finally, he buzzed me at a close clip in his hurry to get past me, and just
about scared the [censored] out of me. But he got his reward, as such Biffs often do...because all his
leadfoot did was put him at the end of a long line of cars in the left lane at the next red light. I
was going to make a right turn, and as it so happened, once you got past the parked cars, the right
lane was completely clear. So once I got past all the parked cars, I flew on by "Biff" with great
pleasure, all the way to the head of the right lane, and made my turn well ahead of him as he sat in
a long line of traffic, no doubt fuming with impatience at everyone else he had to share the road
with. Too bad! So sad! See ya later, Biff.
So, the next time you encounter one of these losers, remember...he's a Biff. Maybe someday you'll
scoot out of his way as he comes bearing down on you, horn honking furiously...just in time to see
him plow right into the back of a manure truck.
--
Trudi