So AM and PM.
- AM means Ante Meridian [Latin = "before midday"]
- And PM means Post Meridian [Latin = "after midday"]
Dashed are your lame hopes that they stood for something like “Around Morning” and/or “Posterior Modem”.
But enough about all that…let’s talk about how much I want to kill the cyclist I just met on the road.
So I’m driving back from the dog park…where I threw up – but that’s another story. And I am happily and gently guiding my vehicle home at the suggested speed of “around 25mph” and I come upon this guy on a bike. He has decided he is a car. So he is taking up the real estate that a car might occupy. But he is not going the suggested speed. He is going like 16 mph. This is like sand in my fucking underwear. He’s one of those Lance Armstrong wanna-be’s with the lycra outfit and the ridiculous silver Tron helmet. This is Crofton buddy, not “le Tour”. So I am trying to be patient to control my inner pit bull - when something happens that is a VERY CLEAR SIGNAL FROM A HIGHER POWER THAT I NEED TO MAKE MY FEELINGS KNOWN to this particular ASSHOLE.
He ran a stop sign.
See…now the fricking cyclists feel that it is their right to manipulate the traffic laws HOWEVER THEY SEE FIT – and I disagree.
So he runs this stop sign and almost gets hit by this car WHO IS OBEYING THE LAWS. And then he does the backwards spiteful remark at that car with the arrogant arm wave. I do believe this was developed in france. It looks french (<<notice I did not capitalize).
SO I am no longer in control. I see this all happen in front of me after my 2 mile long 16mph low speed chase of him- and I FREAK OUT.
I go from 1st to 3rd gear in a manner only used on race tracks and honk my existence straight up his ass. He wobbles a bit to the right side of the street and I have all the starboard windows already down as I pull along side of him and begin barking out my feeling towards him like a free basing stage 4 turrets syndrome patient.
“You stupid shit for brains idiot cyclist!!! What the fuck do you think you are doing?? Who the hell do you think you are, you small testicled pole rider fuckwit???? Do you want me to teach you some rudimentary physics??? Let me show you what my fucking mass times velocity can do to that stupid helmet you have on there. Follow the goddamn road rules or I WILL crush you like a bug!!!”
He was saying things at the very same time. I didn’t hear what he was saying because I was in love with what I was saying and I was also concentrating on how much I hated his angry raisin like face. So I pass him and move my car over so he can now not pass me without biting it on the side mirror of parked cars. And then I kinda deflate.
I saw a lady I knew and it blinked me right out of the rage somehow.
“Oh look there’s Ann..”
I look in the rearview mirror to see where the biker is and all I see is a chocolate lab frozen in fear at what has just happened. I apologize to the dogs and try to regain composure. In about 3 minutes I pull up to my house and park infront.
I’m just a nice lady that lives in the neighborhood and likes animals and gardening. At peace with the universe.
And the cyclist turns on my corner – I steady myself for confrontation. I think I actually had a flash sweat going on too. But I stood my ground…and he rolls on by me…oh no…oh yes…he’s the guy that lives on the street next to me. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!
“You’re a crazy bitch.”
“oh shut the fuck up and ride home to your mother!”
(and then I ran into the house and hid) I am afraid to go outside again. I have no control and the gods are misusing my powers.
I hate cyclists.
(this link made me feel a little better though).