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So some time last week while on the bike, I saw the red light and decided to cruise to a stop.

A man in a beige/champagne Toyota Camry cuts me off really bad. He came from behind barely moving over to the next lane, and then at the first possible moment, swerves back into my lane; slowing to a stop.

I'm like "What the heck?!" and I go into Hulk mode. I floor the gas, and ride beside him, ready to pound his window and give him a piece of my mind. I was really mad because if he had clipped me, I'd be done for. You don't understand how close he cut it - he was totally in my personal space.

I stop beside him and stare. It was some older brown dude maybe in his mid-forties. I began to think of what to say, how to react. Should I drop my bike to the floor and punch out his window? How about if I just kicked and dented the door? Oh I know, I'll remove my helmet, throw it through his windshield, punch through the glass, unlock the doors, dent the door, stroll to the driver's side, open it up, and give him the biggest whooping this side of Bangladesh!

No. I didn't do any of those things. I instead looked at him, and gave him a wave. Just to let him know I'm there.

He rolls down the window and says "Nice bike, how many CC's?"

"929."

The light turns green and I ride away, smug as his mouth is agape and in awe of the power that resides beneath me bum.

....I am that cool. posted by losir at 9:16 PM