Point Blank

Shut the fuck up.
Learn to buck up.
Shut the fuck up.
—“Nugget,” by Cake

Motorized vehicles tend to make little people feel larger and stronger than they really are. And I’m not just talking about those enormous pickups driven by frustrated men who are shorter than the average eighth-grader. Even a little SUV can make a soccer mom feel invincible, especially when she’s near a bicycle instead of a monster truck driven by a dwarf.

That’s why I always like watching a motorist’s gonads shrivel when his (or her) anonymity disappears as an angry bicyclist appears at his door after he parks. I’ve seen teenage boys and angry old men suddenly grow sheepish when confronted at point-blank range after they’ve harassed me on the road.

This morning, I heard the hostile voice of a woman as I pedaled north on an industrial side street: “THERE’S A BIKE PATH ON THE OTHER SIDE!” I looked back and saw a car—with the driver’s window rolled down—pulling onto a side street. Yeah, that’s ballsy. Yell at me as you’re turning off the road to disappear, you abomidable bitch.

The greatest thing about industrial areas is light early morning traffic. It allows quick U-turns. Let’s dance, baby.

I followed her into the parking lot where she works, rolled up to her window and asked what her problem was. “There’s a bike path right over there!” she angrily said.

No, I replied, that’s a small sidewalk on the wrong side of the road, and oh, by the way, do you know what Alaska law says about bicycles on streets?

“No.”

Well, as a licensed driver, you should.

“Look, I ride a bike too,” she said, growing timid. “I was just trying to be helpful. I get nervous when I see a bike on the street.” (There goes the right ovary.)

Well, maybe you shouldn’t be driving then, because what I was doing was safe and legal, and I really don’t appreciate people copping an attitude and yelling at me from their cars. I know what I’m doing, fuck you very much.

“Look, I just thought you should know there’s a bike path,” she replied while nervously starting to close her door and raise her window. “I thought maybe you hadn’t seen it. I didn’t have an ‘attitude’ and I didn’t mean to upset you.” (Aaaaaand there goes the left ovary.)

After I spouted a few more angry words and started to roll away, her boldness began to return as the distance between us increased.

“Have an awesome day!” she called out.

Too late.