Overheard while biking home last night–
From the car full of guys, trying to make a right turn from the center lane at Western and Armitage:
“Get out of the road, fag!”
From the guy in the late-model black sedan, near McDonald’s:
“Awesome helmet, dude!”
From the cranky partygoers in a cab, stuck in a quarter-mile-long non-moving clot of cars on Milwaukee Ave at 1am:
“Jesus, the guy on the bike is passing us. Fucking passing us!”
From the woman illegally parked in the bike line in a clearly marked no-parking zone, who didn’t bother to look in her mirror before opening her door, nearly dooring me:
“What the fuck, watch where you’re going!”
From the girl in the black sundress, worn over jeans, riding an old Schwinn cruiser:
“Hey, cute pants!”
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And thus it all evens out, right?
Cute pants NOT to be confused with hot pants, I hope.
It was just a pair of jeans.
Last night some teenagers in a car were making fun of my bike and yelling “slow down, you’re going so faaast!” The joke was on them, since I was having a nice ride to Club Foot, where they aren’t allowed. Sha-SHA.
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