So I was riding along the other day, just cruising along a long flat stretch of road with not much traffic and at a reasonable temperature. I stopped at a red light, a four way intersection that connects to another four way intersection of a major road one refuge island to the right.
The light stayed red for a while and I was just track standing, thinking about how unfit I am, when two cyclists breeze past me on the right, straight through the red light. I didn't see them look, and there were a few motorists waiting at the intersection as the major road traffic filtered into this side road.
The light changed and I took off, I quickly caught up to the two casual cyclists. One was a short, hairy, chubby guy on a small Specialized. The other was a taller guy with hairy legs on a Trek maybe; he had a black and yellow kit. I get along side them and say:
The light stayed red for a while and I was just track standing, thinking about how unfit I am, when two cyclists breeze past me on the right, straight through the red light. I didn't see them look, and there were a few motorists waiting at the intersection as the major road traffic filtered into this side road.
The light changed and I took off, I quickly caught up to the two casual cyclists. One was a short, hairy, chubby guy on a small Specialized. The other was a taller guy with hairy legs on a Trek maybe; he had a black and yellow kit. I get along side them and say:
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| Probably looked something like this, sans deep dish wheels |
When I asked it, they weren't together, the short fat one was a little in front and he turned to me and replied the same way I do to motorists and others who have a go at me while on my bike: Hurr durr blah furr durr hue hue hurrr?
It actually made me laugh, and I said, "Yeah, you get it."
I kept ridding as I had a lot more speed than they did. But I figured by his response, that he really didn't give a fuck. And no amount of me questioning them, would have a positive outcome.
I shook my head and continued. I was just cruising at about 30-33km/hr. When I heard someone say: "Oi. What did you say?" In a real mean voice, like I had just just called him a paedophile fuckwit in front of his mum.
I looked over at him and, in total shock that he had come after me, said, "What the fuck?"
He rides up along side me, his bars in line with my knees, and pulls in real close; staring daggers at me he repeats himself.
I looked forward because I was in the bike lane, and there were parked cars on my inside, I was boxed in. I didn't know what his intentions were, but I was in a poor position to do anything to inflame the situation.
He was out of breath. I said, "Don't roll through red lights." With this smirk on my face.
He replied: "Fuck you, don't tell me what to do, cunt. There was no danger. Fuck you."
I didn't change my speed, but I kept looking forward, and only took brief glances at him. I wanted to make sure he wasn't pushing me into the cars.
He never got his bars level with mine, and he was breathing hard. On reflection, I think he scared himself when he moved closer to me and I didn't deviate any. I think he realised I wasn't intimidated and he wasn't confident enough on the bike to get close to me.
At the time, I was so gob smacked, I didn't know what to say that wouldn't anger him and potentially force me into the parked cars. I had this smirk on my face that I just couldn't remove. Not that I wanted to, I wanted to laugh at him and tell him to eat a dick, but my position was too precarious.
He says: "Keep on riding, or pull over, get off your bike, and say something, to me." He was breathing really hard. I realised he was dropping behind me, he couldn't keep up with me.
I shook my head again and just kept riding, knowing that I was going to fast for this hairy legged hubbard.
I didn't look back at him, but he finally said: "Fuck you, cunt. Fuck, you." He said it so slow, and so meaningfully, like I had raped his child and he was about to kill me, knowing that no one would ever find out about my torture and murder. It was actually quite chilling. I've never had someone say it like that, let alone say it like that to me.
It actually made me laugh, and I said, "Yeah, you get it."
I kept ridding as I had a lot more speed than they did. But I figured by his response, that he really didn't give a fuck. And no amount of me questioning them, would have a positive outcome.
I shook my head and continued. I was just cruising at about 30-33km/hr. When I heard someone say: "Oi. What did you say?" In a real mean voice, like I had just just called him a paedophile fuckwit in front of his mum.
I looked over at him and, in total shock that he had come after me, said, "What the fuck?"
He rides up along side me, his bars in line with my knees, and pulls in real close; staring daggers at me he repeats himself.
I looked forward because I was in the bike lane, and there were parked cars on my inside, I was boxed in. I didn't know what his intentions were, but I was in a poor position to do anything to inflame the situation.
He was out of breath. I said, "Don't roll through red lights." With this smirk on my face.
He replied: "Fuck you, don't tell me what to do, cunt. There was no danger. Fuck you."
I didn't change my speed, but I kept looking forward, and only took brief glances at him. I wanted to make sure he wasn't pushing me into the cars.
He never got his bars level with mine, and he was breathing hard. On reflection, I think he scared himself when he moved closer to me and I didn't deviate any. I think he realised I wasn't intimidated and he wasn't confident enough on the bike to get close to me.
At the time, I was so gob smacked, I didn't know what to say that wouldn't anger him and potentially force me into the parked cars. I had this smirk on my face that I just couldn't remove. Not that I wanted to, I wanted to laugh at him and tell him to eat a dick, but my position was too precarious.
He says: "Keep on riding, or pull over, get off your bike, and say something, to me." He was breathing really hard. I realised he was dropping behind me, he couldn't keep up with me.
I shook my head again and just kept riding, knowing that I was going to fast for this hairy legged hubbard.
I didn't look back at him, but he finally said: "Fuck you, cunt. Fuck, you." He said it so slow, and so meaningfully, like I had raped his child and he was about to kill me, knowing that no one would ever find out about my torture and murder. It was actually quite chilling. I've never had someone say it like that, let alone say it like that to me.
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| Sorry Huw! |
What gets me though, is why someone could demonstrate such hatred and disdain for something so meaningless. It boggled my mind. I really didn't know what to make of it.
So he fell back and I never heard from him again. I turned around to see him after a hundred metres or so but couldn't actually see him or his mate.
Immediately I thought, that's some unfit mother fuckers. But I was half relieved that is was over and half disappointed that I did nothing to show him how much I respected him.
As I kept riding, I thought about all these cool things I could have said or done to develop or end the situation.
Even days later I was wishing I had done something different. Maybe because the danger of the parked cars seems less serious now, but when it boils down to it, I made the right decision.
I don't even mean it in a 'I'm trying to justify my position' kind of way, either.
If I was to relive the situation, I would still say something to them about rolling through the light, but I would still not respond to my aggressor. I really don't need to prove that I have a big dick, or that I am an alpha male. And I certainly don't need to punch or cause him to crash because he rode through a red light. The best I could hope for is ironic justice: a car hitting him.
Being morally righteous makes you a better person, in every circumstance. It may not ever feel like it though. EVER. But rest assured, it is. No matter what situation you're in, being morally right, is always the correct answer. The only people that blur this line, are the ones that are doing the wrong thing. If you want to or need to use physical force to prove you're right, you've already lost the battle. Hard lessons need to be taught to some people, but the type of person that resorts to physical force immediately, is not the type of person that will learn from any encounter. If you can't fight with your words, you need to go back to school.
So he fell back and I never heard from him again. I turned around to see him after a hundred metres or so but couldn't actually see him or his mate.
Immediately I thought, that's some unfit mother fuckers. But I was half relieved that is was over and half disappointed that I did nothing to show him how much I respected him.
As I kept riding, I thought about all these cool things I could have said or done to develop or end the situation.
Even days later I was wishing I had done something different. Maybe because the danger of the parked cars seems less serious now, but when it boils down to it, I made the right decision.
I don't even mean it in a 'I'm trying to justify my position' kind of way, either.
If I was to relive the situation, I would still say something to them about rolling through the light, but I would still not respond to my aggressor. I really don't need to prove that I have a big dick, or that I am an alpha male. And I certainly don't need to punch or cause him to crash because he rode through a red light. The best I could hope for is ironic justice: a car hitting him.
Being morally righteous makes you a better person, in every circumstance. It may not ever feel like it though. EVER. But rest assured, it is. No matter what situation you're in, being morally right, is always the correct answer. The only people that blur this line, are the ones that are doing the wrong thing. If you want to or need to use physical force to prove you're right, you've already lost the battle. Hard lessons need to be taught to some people, but the type of person that resorts to physical force immediately, is not the type of person that will learn from any encounter. If you can't fight with your words, you need to go back to school.
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