I finally got around to fixing my cleat. Much of this was due to an email I received from a reader that read, if I take the liberty to paraphrase/completely fabricate "brian- great blog but fix yer darn (frontier-style) cleat. Sincerely, K." So I took the five minutes to do so and my ride home was much better and less bowlegged. Thanks, K!
(I write this post with Dance Moms [again] in the background. If you'd like to read a really interesting post about said show, please comment because the Official Wife has some really great insights that I'd be more than happy to have written on this very blog. SPOILER ALERT: Dance Moms isn't even about the moms. It's about Abby Lee Miller.)
I was late leaving, so it was a bit of a rush job home. Ellie the Poodle needs to get her noms, so it's kind of a bad thing when I leave work an hour late. Not that Ellie the Poodle has a watch or anything, but I felt guilty enough that I treated all stop signs as optional and all speed limits as negligible. Just kidding about the speed limits part- I'm really not that capable of riding fast, as much as I pretend to try. There's no real merit to trying to rush because at most you'll pick up a minute or two and that's just not really enough to make it worth it.
No joke but I actually saw a guy wearing a time trial helmet. A few questions. 1) really? 2) are you kidding me? 3) seriously? Even in #bikeDC, a land sometimes known more for money than sense, I find this to be preposterous. Something like this is a statement, not an accident or an oversight. And the statement is "I'm ridiculous."
Once you start calling someone an "asshat" it's hard to stop calling other people asshats. The first was the driver of a BMW, emblazoned with a University of Kentucky window sticker, who elected to complete ignore me and proceed to drive his car within 2 feet of me for a number of blocks. Hey, Kentucky, eat this. Sorry. That was cruel. Anyway, he was a jerk. And then a bus drive and a truck driver were jerks too, by blocking the way with their ill conceived turns. Ass hats both. And then there were some pedestrian asshats, none of whom recognized that it's unwise to walk in the middle of the sidewalk. There might have also been a Jaguar driver who was an asshat, assuming that he was honking at me, even though I was in a totally different lane and my actions in no way impacted him. Also, if you're under 50 and driving a Jaguar, you're doing it wrong.
I never know how to feel when I'm scofflawing, but a driver is scofflawing too. This happened at the entrance/exit of the Marriott to Fort Myer, where some van driver approached the exit from the wrong way on the one way and I cut across his path in a way that wasn't totally legal either. I mean, law of the jungle and whatnot, but it's just kind of awkward.
Asshat who rolled in front of me two days ago? Yeah, I totally got the better of him today when he was waiting at a red and I timed my approach such that I blew right past him as the light turned green. Cosmic balance, dude. Or something.
Another Tim sighting. Hi pedestrian Tim! He waved and I waved.
Friday tomorrow and I'm ready for it. It's been a long week.
No comments:
Post a Comment