I have long railed against cyclists. If you are a cyclist and you follow all of the rules of the road, we can totally be friends. I’m not sure what it is about most cyclists that makes them feel so blessed entitled, but it is typically my experience when stopping them when they run lights, stop signs, etc.
This past week, though, I think I saw the man I would be if I were a cyclist. I’m talking the goofy spandex, the nasty power gel, and riding groups kind of cyclist.
This dude laid the smack down on a fellow cyclist.
And it was glorious.
I was sitting at a favorite
duck pond enforcement location when I saw four cyclists approaching me. Three of them appeared to be traveling together and the single was ahead of them.
I saw the signal light for their direction cycle from green to yellow to red. The solo was absolutely going to run the light straight ahead. He noticed me at the last second and made a quick right turn.
He still didn’t stop.
The other three, however, did. And this is what an older gentleman cyclist said:
“Hey! You ran the goddamn red light! You’re giving cyclists a bad name!”
That. Was. Precious.
The light cycled back to green and the three cyclists went on their way, giving me a cheery, “Hello!” as they passed.
I was laughing like a hyena.
I actually got on the PA to make sure the solo could hear me.
I said, “I was going to write you a ticket, but that gentleman said everything that needed to be said, son.”
So, to my cyclist soul mate, I say, “Kudos, sir! Keep up the good work and the rubber side down!”