Friday, July 15, 2005

Sputtering expletives exited my lips

It's not something I'm very proud of, but for some reason when the guy gave me the horn as I was taking a left on my commute to work, there was no hesitation in releasing Mr. Dirty Birdie. Say "hello" Mr. Birdie! You just made a new friend. What pisses me right off is the fact that there was practically no traffic at the intersection Main Street and North Ave. in Wakefield. It's 6:30 AM; the most activity is at the D&D on the corner, where the morning caffeine fix is delivered with swiftness and skill.

I stopped at the RED light in the left turn lane like a good law-abiding cyclist. No need to rush, we get a green arrow. I was "setting a good example" and do not trust bleary-eyed morning commuters. I've taken this left a hundred times since starting this commute last year, and always take off smoothly and quickly, just like another car in the stream of traffic. Mr. Fatty Pants behind me in his "Cool in the 80's" Van decides that the 2.5 seconds he lost because he couldn't floor it to get to the next red light is a problem. "Toot"...and as I said before, out came Mr. Dirty Birdie. As he passed, after he introduced me to Mr. Birdie's twin, I was literally sputtering as I screamed at him. I think I used the term "fat f%$k" and "a$$hole", etc., etc. I was really lit up with adrenaline. The kicker was that he WAS a fat f&^k. I think his belly rubbed the steering wheel. Talk about a stereotype of Americana that I try to avoid. The enviro-weenie commuter cyclist v. the overweight fossil fuel burner. Isn't self-righteousness a great way to rationalize your behavior.

At the end of it all, I felt a bit foolish for my outburst, yet, in a way it felt deserved, like after a certain number of idiotic auto driver moves, I am allowed a meltdown.


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