Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Big guy

Just want to say that I'm not riding all the way to the right side of the road. Nope. I'm more like somewhere on the right half of Mount Hamilton Ave. in Los Altos, rocking out to Robbie Robertson. Trying to ride fast-ish. Trying to get to Foothill and Arastradero by 7am.

That's when the big-ass truck passes me on the left. Plenty of room but the driver's making noise, yelling something out the window. Makes him look like an idiot. It's too late to move further to the right and anyway now I don't feel like it. The headphones make a handy buffer; can't hear a thing. Just that he's angry.

Might have flipped him the bird; I don't recall.

In front of me now, the brake lights go red. Big guy wants to tango. I move over to the left edge of the road and pass the truck, no hesitation. Singing along in my head. Going fast-ish.


It's totally different, this album; an acquired taste. Highly recommend.

The moment passes; the guy seems to give up the fight. Rolls the truck in an orderly fashion right up to the stop sign. Maybe he's figured out I can see his license plate clearly from here. Maybe he realizes I can't hear him and don't care, and it's not worth yelling if no one's on the other end.

Or maybe he's figured out his truck is plastered with the name of a business, Vojvoda Pest Control. That getting arrested for deadly assault and a variety of traffic violations might not be good for his livelihood. He might have trouble wriggling out, might lose the truck...

Whatever.

It's not like he's the first irate idiot who's ever tried this. It's kinda early to be pissed off though. Probably all those chemicals affecting his brain. Or maybe he's just a bully who mistook me for a victim. Maybe he thinks I wouldn't beat him senseless in self-defense.

I have a good ride. With Alex and Scott, up-sa-daisy up Page Mill to the water fountain, then back down into the valley. Shower and change at home, then ride to work. In a good mood all day long.




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