Or how I swear out an old man in a scooter, and call him a douche. And how he totally deserved it.
I was biking on a street that was wet from rain. It’s harder to brake when the road is wet and slick. In those conditions it is harder to stop my bike and it takes longer and as a consequence it takes more space for me to stop my bike.
Since moving three months ago, I had learned quickly how necessary it is to watch bikers and pedestrians carefully, because they will step out right in front of you. I watch constantly and carefully, because I have to, because people are idiots and they have death wishes, or act like it, constantly.
I had the green light. Now let me just say that my having the green light means absolutely nothing to other bikers, pedestrians, and sometimes even drivers in vehicles. So I am careful, because it is necessary. Unfortunately that still is no guarantee that someone still won’t almost cause an accident, or almost run into me, or break the law and put me in a very dangerous unsafe situation.
An old man in a scooter was on the sidewalk as I rode up to the intersection. He had the red light. I had the green light. I was watching him carefully. He braked completely, while looking up at the red light that he had. I saw that he realized he had a red light. I saw that he had braked. I did not brake. I had the green light.
Then he zipped out right in front of me going about twenty miles an hour. Fucking scooters. I started screaming and swearing at him. And then he started mouthing off back to me. Here is the thing. You don’t get to act like that and then mouth off when someone bitches you out, when you richly deserve it. So I called him a douche.
And he totally deserved it. He could have caused me an accident. He could have flipped my bike and my bike and I could have both landed on his body or tipped over the scooter. If he thinks that could not cause him serious bodily harm or a back injury or a severed spine, he a bigger fucking idiot than I think he is already. He should never be allowed to get behind a vehicle of any kind, certainly not one that goes faster than one mile an hour.
And yet I realize all this past week how anger is a stage of grief, because I am so angry for others existing while experiencing the loss of my lovely nephew, who was a joy in my life and in my heart. So I get angry more often and I swear more often and I am okay with that.