Follow Me

To the guy that caught up with me and then rode a few feet behind me so that he could lecture me in a gentle sarcasm, against a stiff breeze, about bicycle safety and conscientiousness while we descended the steep grade of Lead avenue—I just wanted to apologize for yelling "Fuck off!" as I turned right at the corner of Broadway. I definitely lost my cool and took it out on you, and I have always wished, continue to wish, that I could move through these kinds of confrontations with my usual sense of humor and playfulness so that I don't come across as an enraged maniac. That said, I want to assure you that I do not like you.

What you say is true. I went through a red light before it had, technically speaking, turned green, but I would also like to point out that the crossing traffic, of which there was none, was facing a yellow light at the time, and since the sight-line for that particular intersection—the corners of Lead and the hospital, one that is little more than a driveway for patients—is wide open on both sides for many meters, I see no reason why a person who is coasting downhill at a medium clip cannot anticipate the light change and not have to wear out his brake pads for what will amount to a rolling stop, as long as I am not endangering any pedestrians or inconveniencing motorists. In short, to say that I "ran" the light seems to me an exaggeration.

Furthermore, I object to your tone of false appreciation when you thanked me for running the light. As if it were not bad enough that you believe the way to get through to someone is to open with an insincere proclamation, I do not see how my own risky behavior should warrant appreciation on your part (even falsely) since I did not, by jumping the gun, affect you or your safety in any way.

You may argue that, by breaking the law, I am an agent of erosion in the social contract we have with others who share the street—the slippery slope scenario—meaning that if I run a light, then eventually everyone can/will run lights. To this I can only say that I don't believe this to be the case. I watch other cyclists, usually riding a fixed-gear or clad in Lycra, dart directly into moving traffic, and I do not feel compelled to follow suit. If I have offended your sensibilities, I can accept it on those terms, but to make a point of pacing yourself at my back wheel so that you can mildly chide me for god knows what—the wind in my ears was doing a fantastic job of keeping your righteousness out of them—all the way into downtown, is frankly very annoying. In the future, if you are angry, I recommend that you raise your voice a little, not only to overcome the conditions in which you were giving advice, but to convey properly the deep-seeded anger you obviously felt. I know a lot of people think that, by not escalating their volume or pace, they sound calm and not like a huge douche bag, but I can testify that this is not the case, and that it is still entirely possible to come across as someone who has anger issues despite a veil of measured speech. (The rapid pedaling didn't help either).

Of what little I could hear, I want to say that, no, I will not accept the blame for the fact that sometimes bicycles are hit by cars. This is the same slippery slope argument as before. The fact is, driving a car is an extremely passive activity, requiring almost no conscious attention at all. How many times have you been driving along and then realized you have been spacing out for the last several blocks? I would venture a guess that it is fairly common. And this does not even account for risky conditions, alcohol, or just plain old mistakes by either party.* So to say that a bicyclist, by disobeying a traffic law, on a quiet street in bright sun, is causing accidents is unfair at best and absolute bullshit in truth. Not to mention that I found a person giving a low-volume lecture, like a little cartoon shoulder angel, as I hurtled at ever-accelerating speeds, was fairly distracting. If it is safety that you are so concerned with, I would like to point out that by riding my ass, you were creating a situation in which my full attention was no longer being given to the road and its denizens, something that I did not enjoy considering the velocity at which we were traveling. Perhaps a better, safer solution would be to politely ask me to pull over so that we could discuss your concerns on the sidewalk. Or maybe we could go halfsies on one of these:

"Confound it, Woman! Slow your tempo or you'll have us all trampled under hoof!"

When I realized that you might actually follow me home in order to finish your long list of ills I was helping to unleash upon society, I turned round to ask if you were going to go straight at the fast-approaching intersection, and you confirmed that you were. In an effort to return to my preferred riding conditions, sans disapproving narrator, I turned right, a deviation from my normal route. I felt this was a civil way to diffuse the situation without having to tell you what a pain in the ass you are or punch you in the windpipe or anything like that. Verily, I was trying to walk away. So for you to then yell yet another sarcastic thanks—this time for not signaling—as I veered in another, quieter direction was the last straw and the moment in which I yelled the aforementioned profane words.

I just wanted to clarify that I am normally a very mild-mannered person, and I do not often scream swear words, or scream words at all, and that my little outburst needs to be characterized as something that was catalyzed by you. So, congratulations Sarcastic Bicycle Safety Know-it-all Guy. You got under my skin and made me feel ashamed for yelling. Though you don't seem it, I hope you're happy.


* I, myself, have been involved in two accidents with motor vehicles, one in which I was knocked down and driven onto while walking my bike through a crosswalk, and another in which I was doored while riding in the designated bike lane. So really, accidents can strike almost anywhere.