The Complaining and Bitching Thread

4 hours in. 500 miles to go. I'm still in goddamn Florida. This state is too freaking wide.

 

Ay caramba, motherfuckers. It's coming at me from all directions today.

 

So I almost got hit by a car last night.

I'm trying not to make too much of a big deal about this, because I know it's easy fodder for anyone that wants to tell me to get off my goddamned bicycle, or at least to tell me I'm doing something wrong...which, technically, in this case I wasn't. Setting a good example by doing the right thing is critically important to me, not just for my own safety but because I consider myself an ambassador to others, friends and strangers alike, in our local community of cyclists. The last thing I'd want is to have something stupid I do reflect badly on the rest of us and get someone else in trouble with a driver irate enough to act out based on my actions.

En route to boot camp, I was nearly left crossed by a cab driver turning in front of me. I was riding, visibly, defensively and legally, up the middle of a lane too narrow to share with traffic traveling in my direction. My two headlights were on and I was wearing reflective gloves and ankle straps, in addition to the numerous reflective stickers all over my bike, though I was dressed in sweats as opposed to a reflective jacket. The cab driver likely didn't realize I was going as fast as I was and tried to cut in front of me before I reached him. I screamed out "HEY!" to him as he was turning into my path, and thankfully he stopped before impact. He wasn't going particularly fast (probably due in part to his misjudging my speed), and I was probably going about 12-15 mph at the time, but hitting him obviously would not have felt good.

(Funny aside: my ex was driving behind me on her way to boot camp and saw the whole thing unfold. Thankfully she was furious with the cab driver and not with me.)

Riding home after boot camp on a well-lit (but reasonably low trafficked) four lane road, I was passed by a guy in the left lane that shouted something unintelligible out his window as he sped by. Perhaps against my better judgment, I followed him into his housing development to ask him what he had wanted to tell me. He asked if I'd been aware that I'd "almost gotten hit back there." I asked, "By whom?", and he refused to answer. I'm guessing it was him, since I had heard nothing—no screeching of brakes or blaring of horns behind me—other than his yelling. Deflecting my question, he asked me what I was doing on the road instead of on the sidewalk. When I mentioned Maryland State Law allowing cyclists legal use of the road, he turned his back on me and walked away, muttering that just because it was legal didn't mean it was safe. So clearly that was a productive conversation.

It would take these people no more than 10 seconds to have waited or gotten around me safely and without issue, respectively. Apparently those ten seconds were too much to ask of them. All the same, this isn't going to stop me from riding. I will continue being as cautious, defensive and law-abiding a cyclist as I have been all along.

Fuckers.

 

I'm super glad you're okay.

 

Thank you @damnitall for being a responsible cyclist. I despise the ones that make cyclists look bad. So yeah...about 70% of the cyclists in this town are dumb. Probably because it's a college town. They run stop signs and they ride on the sidewalks acting like pedestrians instead of vehicles. They wear black clothing at night and neglect to use proper reflective gear or lights. Pisses me off.

DaddySquirrel is an avid cyclist and I worry for him. The motorists in this town are used to the stupid cyclists and thus make stupid decisions around all cyclists. I'm so scared that he's going to get hurt.

 

I am SO glad you are OK. Also, that neither of the ass-monkeys you described fit the description of my dad (who does not drive at night, either, thank god). It scares me to think of all the crap drivers you have to deal with. That said, watch out for a slightly dinged up "green tea" coloured KIA Soul. That's Dad and he's a very slow, partially blind and deaf driver. He goes to bridge games 4X a week so he's out there <cringe>.

 

My ass...it hurts. Like...a lot.

When I was much younger and less of a mother I complained about my ass hurting. It hurt for fun reasons. Rugby and the occasional boudoir ass slapping.

This is a completely different kind of ass pain.

 

martyrdom is martyrdom is martyrdom.
I don't care how tough you think you are it's still whining.

 

One of my sisters could be a professional martyr.

 

Drive the motherkittening speed limit, you kitteners!

 

Yes. 12 hours on I-10. Sux0rs

 

I have to be awake in 2 hours. FML

 

I am not Borg.

My cell phone is not intergrated into my body.

Being constantly "in touch" is overrated. Way overrated.

 

I say ack autocorrect, fucking deal with it.

 

I was criticized during a practical exercise in interviewing today because I "use too many big words"

 

I hate it when you want to listen to a cell phone message, but the system serves up a message you saved a while ago, in lieu of writing down some information from it, and insists that you deal with it right now.

I hate it when the inside bag of a box of cereal cannot be opened with one's bare hands. By the time you realize this, you've deformed the box, so that (without tediously reshaping the contents) it won't fit back on the shelf with the other cereal boxes.