I was running an errand for Fred last week which put me in the center of downtown at 5:10pm with all of the other people trying to go home for the day. In front of me is a cyclist pedaling his little heart out a few car lengths in front of me. I slow behind him and eventually click over to the left lane.
We all stop for a red light. Well, everyone but him. He is now weaseling his way between cars up to the stop light. A new line of cars are behind him, agitated. The biker swerves to the right, crossing into the crosswalk and immediately swerves back left into the traffic lane. A screech of brakes later, he’s riding again. A few cars pass him and the same thing happens at the next light only he doesn’t stop this time – just slowly starts into the intersection and then pedals full speed ahead when it turns green. This time, he veers right into a bus lane only to quickly veer back left, causing a truck to immediately merge left and me to slam on my brakes.
A few expletives came out of my mouth but then I laughed. I laughed hard as I passed him by and eventually got into the right lane ahead of him.
Little biker boy is wearing a dweeby little Astana Cycling Team hat. No doubt, the thrill of the 2010 Tour de France is alive in this one; he thinks he is Alberto Contador.
Well, I have news for you biker boy. Wearing your dress pants, shiny black dress shoes, undershirt and crappy Astana cap doesn’t make you Alberto Contador. Instead, it makes you a jerk on the road that gives every other biker out there a bad name. You're going to cause a wreck and someone will get hurt and you - no doubt - will think that the big mean gas-eating, lane hogging metal machines are to blame when really it's you at the center with your cocky smirk.
I'd like to wipe that smirk off your face.
Oh, and you just look stupid with your dress shoes on.