I'd ridden down to the Oak Street Chicane and turned around after seeing nasty skies, figuring it's better to be closer to home than not if the skies rip open on me. On my way back north, just barely north of Belmont, I call out 'on yer left' to a guy jogging on the path's yellow line at belmont... let me present:
meets 
me: on yer left!
jerk: ...no room for you assholes...
me: (Slowing) What's that?
jerk: Yo, Lance - you guys think you can... (I'm still too far away)
Lance: (I've apparently been renamed) Sorry?
Bowerman (tit for tat. I can rename him to a famous runner): Like, where were you in February, huh?
Lance: Me? On this path, right here. By the way, my name's not Lance.
Bowerman: Yeah, Lance.
Lance: Why all the hate, anyway?
Bowerman: You guys think you're such... (inintelligible aside from another Lance)
Lance: I'm not just some pathlete, dude. I'm pretty serious...
Bowerman: Ha. Pathlete. That's a pretty good one, Lance.
Lance: Ok, whatever, douchebag. Have a good night.
With that, I rode away and finished my Active Recovery ride, though my HR was around 130 because of my frustrating conversation with this idiot.
I'm still not entirely sure why I slowed down, I guess I thought he might have something interesting to say? FAIL. Whatever. I should work on ignoring idiots like this, especially since this kind of heckling will never, ever cease. People don't get cyclists, we're a strange looking bunch, shaved legs and Lycra and the "little seats and weird pedals". Like most people, they ridicule what they don't understand... and they definitely don't understand a wet, snowy lakefront path ride in February when it's 28 degrees outside.
Maybe I pay attention to them because I just want to put them on a bike, especially at the velodrome, and help them understand a bit.
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3 comments:
Hahaha. If I had dollar for every time someone called me Lance....
Last week this frat boy looking runner nearly wrecked another cyclist in front of me by the 57th street exit. The douche had his ipod on and decided to cut across the path all of a sudden. The cyclist tells the guy to watch out and the douche runs down the underpass yelling "Fuck off! Fuck you Lance". Now, it was time for my coffee break so I rolled down after him and yelled at the top of my lungs inches from his ear. The guy nearly falls over and then walks off not even making eye contact.
Next time give them
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XzPBUGUM7KQ
What a douche bag. There is always someone with something up their ass. I just laugh at them now. It really pisses 'em off.
Almost got doored the other day in the bike lane commuting home up Lincoln near OTR (if it's not a lady cop threatening to give me a ticket, it's gotta be something else, wtf is up w/ Lincoln?).
Anyways I swerve around the white trash bastard's door, luckily there's no cars next to me, or it coulda been ugly, and yell "Watch your door!" back at the guy. He says "Watch your doo-oor" in a mocking tone and laughs - that had me on my brakes and about to head back to have a friendly face to face with him. I responded with a civil "It's a bike lane asshole, watch what the fuck you're doing", and decide against completely ruining my day and his face. Kinda wishing i woulda turned around, but some people just aren't worth it.
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