Die, SUV Driver
While biking to work yesterday I was crowded off the road by a jagoff in a white Lexus SUV. Said jagoff was consulting a map or somesuch and couldn't be bothered to watch the road, and so I was given a second's choice between the SUV and the curbside. The curbside looked better (softer?), so I hit it, flipped over my bike, and landed on the ground. It wasn't so bad--I got away with a few scrapes on the hands, a few bruises on the legs, and a renewed hatred for these shitty suburban drivers who, I bet, have absolutely no need for an SUV, and no clue how to drive one. Biking in the city is like maneuvering through an obstacle course, but at least the drivers there have learned how to watch the road. I've had more close calls in the suburbs, by far.
Oh, and I saw the SUV slow down for a moment, as though the driver saw me eat it, but then it sped up through the intersection once he/she/it saw I wasn't dead. Thanks, dude!
On a completely different note, my cat looks somewhat like Falcore from The Neverending Story.
4 comments:
Glad to hear you're OK.
Or maybe s/he sped up thinking you were dead. Bastards.
I certainly wouldn't put that above s/he/it. S/he/it was certainly a bastard.
And by "above," of course, I meant "below." Prepositions have a knack for (of? to?) giviing me trouble.
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