Sit and Schwinn
As a former Catholic, I am no stranger to guilt, shame, and the condemnation of others. Now, while I do enjoy me some condemnation of others, I like to think that I reserve my condemnation for those who truly deserve it. You know – career criminals, Ashlee Simpson, that bitch at the Pep Boys service counter. And mostly, I do tend to funnel my judgment and anger at these most-deserving targets, but…I have a confession to make. And since I am no longer Catholic, I must confess to the Internet Superhighway instead of to a strange man sitting behind a curtain like the Great and Powerful Oz. So, here we go:
There is a group of people that I hate, and I hate that I hate them, and I try not to hate them because they really do not deserve such intense hate, but still, the hate remains, and I just cannot hold it in any longer.
I hate bikers. Omigod, I hate them so much. I do.
I’m sorry! I can’t help it! I just do.
And I KNOW I shouldn’t – I KNOW. I think it’s great that they’re doing their part to conserve our resources and improve our environment, and more power to ’em, because there’s no way I’d pry my selfish ass out of the car to brave the weather, insufficient bike lanes, and dangerous drivers I’d have to battle if I biked my commute every morning. I suffered through 2 years of commuting to work on the shittiest line of the New York City subway system, where bodily fluids made a daily appearance in the seats and my fellow straphangers generously shared their germs/poor hygiene/morning masturbation habits with me, a borderline germophobe. So when we moved away from NYC, I vowed I would never subject my fragile, delicate self to a difficult commute again – especially one that involves physical exertion and the possibility I might find myself squashed in the grill of a U-Haul before 9am – so biking has never been a very attractive option for me. So, in sum, bikers = better, healthier, more earth-loving people than me. To bike is divine; bike-liness is next to godliness; when you saw one set of footprints, that is when the bikers carried you, etc., etc., etc.
And yet. I hate them.
And I know bikers. I work with them. I socialize with them. They are great people, and I would be so sad if some dumbass driver opened their car door into them as they sped by, which might be an urge I have to resist on a daily basis.
Please, God, don’t let me…
But the truth is, once these fine people hit the pavement with their two skinny little wheels, they infuriate me. Allow me to explain why, in a handy outline format that I will no doubt need to reference in court someday:
- If you want me to treat you like a car, then:
- OBEY THE FUCKING STOP SIGNS AND TRAFFIC LIGHTS LIKE A CAR.
- Don’t ride on the fucking sidewalk at 45mph and nearly run me over as I step out of my office building.
- If you are riding in the middle of the road in a 40mph zone of a very busy 4-lane city boulevard, then:
- This is no time to leisurely coast along like Mary fucking Poppins, causing us selfish, environment-hating car drivers to slam on our brakes to avoid squishing you into a puddle of spandex.
- Do not weave in and out of cars unless you are just super-curious about what the inside of your brain looks like.
- Be prepared for me to drive right on past if your stunt-show driving gets you into a wreck, because I refuse to be late over your shithead escapades (also applies to pedestrians and other car drivers).
- If your shithead escapades cause a car to hit you, then it will inevitably be (or at least look like) the car driver’s fault, even if you were zooming around like a fucking crack fiend. Oh, biker, I think this makes me hate you most of all.
- If you decide to introduce your children to the wide world of cycling, then:
- Holy shit, for the love of God, do not do it on a VERY BUSY ROAD DURING RUSH HOUR, causing me to almost piss myself as I watch your 8-year-old daughter try not to swerve into traffic because she is clearly not ready to be riding without training wheels. Leave the child endangerment to Britney Spears. You’ll never be able to top her crazy shit anyway.
Now, for you bikers who obey all traffic signs, allow cars to pass you whenever you can, and refrain from wearing those pervy little shorts that make it possible for passersby to conduct your prostate exams, I salute you.
As for the rest of you…I’m sorry. I can’t stand you or your over-developed calf muscles (seriously, I saw a guy this morning who could probably open pickle jars with those things. Bluuurggh.).
Oh, and one more thing: I make no apologies for hating the dipshits who ride those ridiculous recumbent bicycles. It’s like they sat around trying to come up with a way to be LESS visible to oncoming traffic, while making it ten times easier to end up lodged underneath a school bus – and looking like a giant dork the entire time.
Entry filed under: And you KNOW THIS!.