Spit-take

Jason’s note: This disturbing piece was contributed today by cycling photographer and rescuer of vintage bikes Joey Mac.

Wow, I seem to catch all the jerks on my lunch bike ride home. There is a narrow part of the road, where it is not safe for a car to pass a bicycle (a center island with a curb on the left, and a sidewalk with a curb on the right). I had an issue in the same spot last week, and had a driver yell at me for taking the full lane.

It happened again today where a car actually passed me in the narrow section of road, coming within inches of me. He of course had to stop soon after because of a car turning left, so as I passed him on the right, I said (this time without swearing or even really yelling) “More room, please.” I continued on his way, and he drove past me, yelled something, I said, “I need 3 feet for safety.” He pulled to a stop right up the road (in fact in front of my house), and got out. I stopped too, because I was at my house anyway. He must have thought I was ready to pick a fight with him. He was driving an Audi or something, and was wearing a golf shirt and some pressed khakis. Grade A douchebag all the way. He immediately came up to me and got in my face.

“what’s the issue here?!”

“you’re too close to me, I need more room if you are going to pass me,”

“YOU NEED TO GET OUT OF THE ****ING ROAD!”

“if you look up the traffic law, you’ll see that I have the right of way, and that you are required to yield or give me room,”

“WHAT YOU WANT TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT?!” (he then tries to psych me out by pretending to headbutt me, or whatever you call that. I didn’t flinch).

“I am a vehicle on the road, I have the same rights as you.”

(he was saying something else, but around this point he decided to just spit in my face)

I was dumbfounded for a second. Did he actually just spit in my face?

“That’s really mature sir.”

“YEAH, YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR MOUTH BECAUSE YOU’RE GOING TO GET YOUR ASS KICKED!”

At this point he was walking back to his car, obviously realizing that I was not going to back down and that I was not intimidated (I am a 5′10″ 200 pound viking, I don’t scare easily).

“Have a nice day sir, drive carefully”

And I walked towards my house. Just as I got to my door, I realized that I should have gotten his license number, but I was still too amazed that I had just had that encounter. He had peeled out and disappeared. The whole moment lasted about 30 seconds. My heart is still beating fast from the adrenaline rush 20 minutes later. I hope he realized that the couple seconds he might have saved by passing me ended up costing him an extra minute or so by stopping to try to pick a fight with me. And I am glad that this time I was able to keep my cool and not just swear a lot like last time I had an angry motorist yell at me. Maybe next time I will actually take down a license plate number too.

Ride carefully, fellow commuters.

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