Saturday, 7 December 2013

Road Courtesy

Dear Mercedes-Benz Driver,

When I'm stopped in a line of traffic, a few inches from the rear bumper of the car in front of me, this is not an invitation to try to squeeze into that space with your large sedan; when that traffic starts moving, and the steep uphill road narrows for fifteen feet into a single lane before expanding back to two lanes, this, sir, is not the time to try to pass me; and when I look over my shoulder to see exactly where you are and how fast you're coming, and perhaps just to show my face to remind you that although I'm a cyclist, I'm also, you know, like a human person, too, this, sir, is not an invitation to throw your hands in the air and start yelling at me about whatever transgression you think I've made by pedaling my bike up a steep, single-lane section of road; nor does drifting over to pass me as close as you can without hitting me, while also squeezing out the cyclist right behind me, make you the bigger, better, or smarter person; it just makes you the bigger asshole.


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