My butt hurts.
Yesterday, while I was riding in to work I had a little run-in with a little car. Now, there have been many occasions in my riding life where I've witnessed a dumb-ass behind the wheel pulling idiot moves, but yesterday was a new one for me.
Suffice it to say that a car passed me too close. I raised up a finger (in mittens I might add.) The driver stopped in the middle of the road. I rode by his window and gave him a small piece of my mind. That bit's happened many times to me.
The new part was that this evolutionary mishap made the mental leap to attempted murder. He gunned the motor after I was back on the right side of the street... and hit me. Full-on ran me down. Wow.
Despite my immediate reaction to get his plate number, I couldn't focus on it and away he went. I was pissed.
I was pissed, but now I'm sad. I'm sad that I don't trust people to have their fellow humans' lives in mind. I'm sad that this particular guy is so full of rage that he stooped to a first degree felony because I was on a bike.
But mostly I'm just kind of generally sad. Sure, I'll get over it. All I got was a bruise on my butt that looks like Marlon Brando (the later years, not the svelt Wild Bunch Brando) and a tacoed rear wheel (I think the Nice Rack may have saved my life) on my CrossCheck, so that's cool.
But I'm sad that people do this to each other. I'm sad that we can't all just wave at each other and smile like idiots when we pass. I'm sad cars can't just give me a little more room. And I'm sad that this particular dude won't ever get it.