Thursday, November 30, 2006
Birfday - Austin Style
So, as of tuesday, I've begun my second quarter century. To celebrate, I invited all my astronomy/domino/other friends out dinner. We decided to go to Conan's Pizza, a local Austin pizzeria dedicated and decorated with Conan the Barbarian artwork. After haggling over what type of pizzas to buy, we ended up ordering a total 8 pizzas for ~18 people. It was awesome.
After people finished eating, we headed next door to Vulcan Video. Unbeknownst to me, Mike Elliot was working that night. He hooked me up with a sweet birthday discount (i.e. free!) I asked him to recommend me a bad movie, something on the level of Hell Comes to Frogtown. Luckily, Vulcan didn't disappoint in this department. We rented 4 flicks. Class of 1984 (with a very young Michael J. Fox!), Lady Terminator (First she mates, then she terminates!), The New Barbarians, and Vince made me get Porno Holocaust. Don't worry, we didn't watch the last one... I think we just got it for the shock value.
Anyway, we retired back to mi casa, and watched the New Barbarians and drank some lone star and shiner and wine. After the first flick ended, the domino crowd retreated into the back room and we started tossing tiles. Mandy, Mike and Tammi showed up around this time. The astro crowd put on the next movie, Lady Terminator. I don't think I ended up winning the game I was playing, but I had fun anyway, which is all that really matters. Terry even showed up after the basketball game.
Thanks to everyone who came, even if only in spirit. I had a lot of fun.
BTW, Marci and Becks took me out to lunch b/c they had plans and couldn't make my super-impromtu excuse for a party. Much thanks, you two.
After people finished eating, we headed next door to Vulcan Video. Unbeknownst to me, Mike Elliot was working that night. He hooked me up with a sweet birthday discount (i.e. free!) I asked him to recommend me a bad movie, something on the level of Hell Comes to Frogtown. Luckily, Vulcan didn't disappoint in this department. We rented 4 flicks. Class of 1984 (with a very young Michael J. Fox!), Lady Terminator (First she mates, then she terminates!), The New Barbarians, and Vince made me get Porno Holocaust. Don't worry, we didn't watch the last one... I think we just got it for the shock value.
Anyway, we retired back to mi casa, and watched the New Barbarians and drank some lone star and shiner and wine. After the first flick ended, the domino crowd retreated into the back room and we started tossing tiles. Mandy, Mike and Tammi showed up around this time. The astro crowd put on the next movie, Lady Terminator. I don't think I ended up winning the game I was playing, but I had fun anyway, which is all that really matters. Terry even showed up after the basketball game.
Thanks to everyone who came, even if only in spirit. I had a lot of fun.
BTW, Marci and Becks took me out to lunch b/c they had plans and couldn't make my super-impromtu excuse for a party. Much thanks, you two.
survey
Dammit, Caroline tagged me...
1. 3 Things that scare me: Cockroaches, Growing up, small confined places
2. 3 People who make me laugh: Vince, John Pinette, George Carlin
3. 3 Things I love: Mushrooms, 42, my mom
4. 3 Things I hate: getting up early, moving, insurance (a.k.a. legalized extortion!)
5. 3 Things I don’t understand: Strehl functions, the female perversion for shoes, why my wireless card sometimes doesn't want to connect to my router...
6. 3 Things on my desk: My fedora, bocadillo (from Nathalia), empty beer bottles
7. 3 Things I’m doing right now: Listening to Madsen, this survey, procrastinating work.
8. 3 Things I want to do before I die: do a triathlon by myself, Stand on all 7 continents, be in a band
9. 3 Things I can do: Pee standing up, bike 17 miles in 56 minutes, make some kick-ass spagetti sauce.
10. 3 Things I can’t do: go into labor, throw things away, give good presentations
11. 3 Things I think you should listen to: the Texas Tornados, Madsen, the Black Crowes
12. 3 Things you should never listen to: Nashville Country, Nickleback, the Gilmore Girls
13.3 things I would like to learn: German, how to be a more hard-core mountain biker, how to be an awesome researcher
14. 3 Favorite foods: Thai, Spagetti, Faijitas
15. 3 Beverages I drink regularly: Water, Coke, Beer
16. 3 Shows I watched as a kid: Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, Sesame Street, Perfect Strangers
17. 3 People I’m tagging (to do this meme): Sarah, Jill, Mike
1. 3 Things that scare me: Cockroaches, Growing up, small confined places
2. 3 People who make me laugh: Vince, John Pinette, George Carlin
3. 3 Things I love: Mushrooms, 42, my mom
4. 3 Things I hate: getting up early, moving, insurance (a.k.a. legalized extortion!)
5. 3 Things I don’t understand: Strehl functions, the female perversion for shoes, why my wireless card sometimes doesn't want to connect to my router...
6. 3 Things on my desk: My fedora, bocadillo (from Nathalia), empty beer bottles
7. 3 Things I’m doing right now: Listening to Madsen, this survey, procrastinating work.
8. 3 Things I want to do before I die: do a triathlon by myself, Stand on all 7 continents, be in a band
9. 3 Things I can do: Pee standing up, bike 17 miles in 56 minutes, make some kick-ass spagetti sauce.
10. 3 Things I can’t do: go into labor, throw things away, give good presentations
11. 3 Things I think you should listen to: the Texas Tornados, Madsen, the Black Crowes
12. 3 Things you should never listen to: Nashville Country, Nickleback, the Gilmore Girls
13.3 things I would like to learn: German, how to be a more hard-core mountain biker, how to be an awesome researcher
14. 3 Favorite foods: Thai, Spagetti, Faijitas
15. 3 Beverages I drink regularly: Water, Coke, Beer
16. 3 Shows I watched as a kid: Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, Sesame Street, Perfect Strangers
17. 3 People I’m tagging (to do this meme): Sarah, Jill, Mike
Sunday, November 26, 2006
south of the border....
so it seems I've met someone...
I was flying back from my business trip from Ithaca, NY (I was up there testing some optics for the FORCAST camera which will fly in SOFIA, a 747 with a 2 m telescope in the back). I flew from Rochester to Washington Dulles, and there I switched planes to a flight back to Austin. I sat down in my aisle seat, hoping I'd repeat my luck from the last flight, and have the row to myself. For five minutes, it was looking like I'd lucked out again, but then a very pretty girl came walking down the plane and took the window seat next to me. We didn't talk too much in the first hour of the flight, only I asked her for a pen so I could do some work on the flight. I read a paper or two and made some notes, but it wasn't too productive.
Eventually, (I can't remember how) we started talking. It turns out, her name's Nathalia, and she's an au pair for a family in Virginia. She's from Columbia and wanted to practice her english. Her english is still a little rough, so I got a chance to practice my spanish as well. It was fun because my spanish is about as good as her english. All in all, it was one of the most interesting conversations I've ever held on a plane. Not because the subject matter was terribly interesting, but more because it was fun trying to converse with someone with whom you only had half a language in common. We would each say something in the our native language, and if the other person still had a look of non-comprehension on his/her face, we'd try our best to say it in the other's language. I was amazed at how much spanish I still knew, as well as how much I'd forgotten. As the flight went on, more and more of my spanish came back. It was quite fun.
She's studying to be a Chemical Engineer back in Bogota, and she's almost done. However, she doesn't want to graduate quite yet, because it's harder to get a visa if you're not a student. She really wants to come here to America to re-start her degree at an American University, because the job prospects are much better with a degree from America.
Anyway, she was coming to Austin to visit her cousin for Thanksgiving. I gave her a list of things to do while she was in Austin. I suggested stuff like 6th street, the Alamo Drafthouse, Town Lake, Hamilton Pool, and Trudy's, to name a few. We exchanged phone numbers once the flight landed, and we went our separate ways.
Much to my surprise, she text messaged me after a few days, and we continued our broken conversations. She really wanted to go salsa dancing, but since her cousin was ~35 with three kids, he really didn't have time to take her out. Since I had a homework assignment due on wednesday, we decided that I'd take her out salsa dancing on wednesday night, after I was finished.
Thanks to a miscommunication, I ended up swiping Vince's car on monday night and we went out for coffee and then to RLM to see the Austin skyline at night.
On the way back home, we stopped at the capitol building and took some pictures.
Finally, Wednesday rolled around. I fought 5:45 Austin traffic and picked her up and met her cousin and his wife. They seem like nice people. We then went to Gueros and had some dinner. I had the chile relleno, and she had faijitas. For a hispanic person, she really has no tolerance for spicy food :-P. To be fair, Gueros does have some pretty hot pico de gallo. Anyway, after dinner, we walked across the congress bridge to Copa, a latin bar which claimed (on the website) to offer salsa dancing lessons ever wednesday night. However, since this was the day before thanksgiving, it ended up being closed. So, we ended up toodling around 6th street. We went to Nunos to listen to a band for a little bit, and then to Maggie Mae's to people watch from the rooftop. After we left Maggie Maes, we ran into Sarah and her crowd. She was in Austin with her boyfriend (Matt) to help her little sister celebrate her 21st birthday. We ended up hanging out with them for the rest of the night. Matt is Peruvian, and spke a little spanish with Nathalia. We ended up in a bar/club just off 6th street. Much fun was had by all, except when Emily's purse got stolen. The good news is, someone ended up turning it in, I think, so I don't think she has to worry about replacing EVERYTHING.
I took her back home and dropped her off. Before she went inside, she gave me a little figurine of a Columbian Chiva (basically a bus people use to get around in rural Columbia), a bracelet with the colors of the Columbian flag, and some columbian sweets, including bocadillo. Bocadillo is... well... kinda sweet and chewy, but yet still kinda crunchy. I think they make it out of cane sugar and guayabas. Whatever it is, it's very good.
We didn't kiss goodnight, per se... She did request that I kiss her on the cheek, but I think it's more of a custom, kinda like a hug or a handshake here in America.
Anyway, she flew out on friday, and she's now back in Virginia. However, we've exchanged skype numbers, and we've talked enough to definitely say there's something there. Sucks that she lives in Virginia. Oh well... we'll see.
I was flying back from my business trip from Ithaca, NY (I was up there testing some optics for the FORCAST camera which will fly in SOFIA, a 747 with a 2 m telescope in the back). I flew from Rochester to Washington Dulles, and there I switched planes to a flight back to Austin. I sat down in my aisle seat, hoping I'd repeat my luck from the last flight, and have the row to myself. For five minutes, it was looking like I'd lucked out again, but then a very pretty girl came walking down the plane and took the window seat next to me. We didn't talk too much in the first hour of the flight, only I asked her for a pen so I could do some work on the flight. I read a paper or two and made some notes, but it wasn't too productive.
Eventually, (I can't remember how) we started talking. It turns out, her name's Nathalia, and she's an au pair for a family in Virginia. She's from Columbia and wanted to practice her english. Her english is still a little rough, so I got a chance to practice my spanish as well. It was fun because my spanish is about as good as her english. All in all, it was one of the most interesting conversations I've ever held on a plane. Not because the subject matter was terribly interesting, but more because it was fun trying to converse with someone with whom you only had half a language in common. We would each say something in the our native language, and if the other person still had a look of non-comprehension on his/her face, we'd try our best to say it in the other's language. I was amazed at how much spanish I still knew, as well as how much I'd forgotten. As the flight went on, more and more of my spanish came back. It was quite fun.
She's studying to be a Chemical Engineer back in Bogota, and she's almost done. However, she doesn't want to graduate quite yet, because it's harder to get a visa if you're not a student. She really wants to come here to America to re-start her degree at an American University, because the job prospects are much better with a degree from America.
Anyway, she was coming to Austin to visit her cousin for Thanksgiving. I gave her a list of things to do while she was in Austin. I suggested stuff like 6th street, the Alamo Drafthouse, Town Lake, Hamilton Pool, and Trudy's, to name a few. We exchanged phone numbers once the flight landed, and we went our separate ways.
Much to my surprise, she text messaged me after a few days, and we continued our broken conversations. She really wanted to go salsa dancing, but since her cousin was ~35 with three kids, he really didn't have time to take her out. Since I had a homework assignment due on wednesday, we decided that I'd take her out salsa dancing on wednesday night, after I was finished.
Thanks to a miscommunication, I ended up swiping Vince's car on monday night and we went out for coffee and then to RLM to see the Austin skyline at night.
On the way back home, we stopped at the capitol building and took some pictures.
Finally, Wednesday rolled around. I fought 5:45 Austin traffic and picked her up and met her cousin and his wife. They seem like nice people. We then went to Gueros and had some dinner. I had the chile relleno, and she had faijitas. For a hispanic person, she really has no tolerance for spicy food :-P. To be fair, Gueros does have some pretty hot pico de gallo. Anyway, after dinner, we walked across the congress bridge to Copa, a latin bar which claimed (on the website) to offer salsa dancing lessons ever wednesday night. However, since this was the day before thanksgiving, it ended up being closed. So, we ended up toodling around 6th street. We went to Nunos to listen to a band for a little bit, and then to Maggie Mae's to people watch from the rooftop. After we left Maggie Maes, we ran into Sarah and her crowd. She was in Austin with her boyfriend (Matt) to help her little sister celebrate her 21st birthday. We ended up hanging out with them for the rest of the night. Matt is Peruvian, and spke a little spanish with Nathalia. We ended up in a bar/club just off 6th street. Much fun was had by all, except when Emily's purse got stolen. The good news is, someone ended up turning it in, I think, so I don't think she has to worry about replacing EVERYTHING.
I took her back home and dropped her off. Before she went inside, she gave me a little figurine of a Columbian Chiva (basically a bus people use to get around in rural Columbia), a bracelet with the colors of the Columbian flag, and some columbian sweets, including bocadillo. Bocadillo is... well... kinda sweet and chewy, but yet still kinda crunchy. I think they make it out of cane sugar and guayabas. Whatever it is, it's very good.
We didn't kiss goodnight, per se... She did request that I kiss her on the cheek, but I think it's more of a custom, kinda like a hug or a handshake here in America.
Anyway, she flew out on friday, and she's now back in Virginia. However, we've exchanged skype numbers, and we've talked enough to definitely say there's something there. Sucks that she lives in Virginia. Oh well... we'll see.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
the bike ride from hell
Wow... What a ride. Really... Before you skim this entry, let me, if I may, run a small teaser by you to entice you to read the rest of the post....
Flat tires, car-bike collisions, fipping the bird, AND assault! Now are you interested? Read on.
Yesterday, Eric emailed me and asked if I wanted to go riding today. Since it's been a while since I took Gertie out, I readily agreed. I skipped out from work fairly early (5:30ish) and rode home to get ready. Around 5:45, Eric showed up. Apparently, he'd hit a pothole on his way over, and broken two of his spokes, so he was a little late. So, I donned my oh-so-fashionable yellow jersey I got from the Martindale Tri, and we were off.
The ride was fairly uneventful for the first 15 minutes. We crossed over 35 and started riding around downtown. Eric took the lead and we headed down the big hill on 15th street, across the Lamar bridge, and into the hoity-toity neighborhood over there. We were riding in traffic (with a red blinking light on my tukus, mind you) and were keeping up with the flow of traffic (it's pretty exhillirating on a bike, let me tell you!). Anyway, there was a lady in a Corrolla 50 yards in front of Eric, when all of a sudden, she decides to slam on the brakes. FOR NO APPARENT REASON!!! It was all Eric could do to stop in time. He said his wheels were skidding and his back tire was fish-tailing pretty bad, and he just barely managed to stop. The driver must have been lost or something because shortly after, the corrolla merged into the other lane and promptly did a U-turn.
So, after much cursing of bad drivers, we were off again. We toodled around the nice neighborhoods up there until Eric had a flat. Luckily, there was a street lamp nearby and he had all of his bike tools, so he was able to patch it fairly easily in ~15 minutes. At this point, Eric commented about how this bike ride was cursed. First, he breaks two spokes, next, he almost rear-ends a Corrolla, and now, he gets a flat tire. Under his breath, he mutters that probably next, he's going to break his leg.
After the flat, We rode up north, across MOPAC and back again. At 45th and Shoal Creek, we came to a 4-way stop. Eric waited his turn, and then charged out into the intersection. Ordinarily, this is not necessarily a bad thing. However, if it's dark, you don't have a headlight, and it's a busy road, I wouldn't necessarily advise it. Rather, I would wait until I was sure that all cars in the interesctions knew that I was there, and then cautiously cross. Not Eric. Before I knew it, he was on the bumper of a blue caprice. He didn't get hit all that hard, but it did bump him sideways a little bit. He got hit on his right side, but his left foot got stuck in the bindings of the pedal, and when he tried to put his left leg down to stabilize himself, he rolled his ankle pretty bad.
Luckily, both Eric and the bike were ok, as was the lady's car. She was pretty shook-up about it. I don't blame her. IMHO, Eric was as much at fault (if not more) than she was. His ankle is going to be pretty sore tomorrow. He's able to walk on it and was able to bike home, so I don't think anything was broken. Strained probably, but not broken. Hugh the firefighter (of Domino fame) was coincidentally at the same intersection in his fire truck. They stopped and made sure everything was ok.
So, after we recover from the latest scare, we decide we've had enough, and head home. We head back to my place on Dean Keeton. For those of you not lucky enough to reside in Austin, Dean Keeton is the street which separates the north of UT campus from the rest of the city. It's a fairly large street (6 lanes, 3 each way), well lit, but around 8:00 PM, it's not particularly busy. We're not moving particularly fast, because of Eric's ankle, and the fact that we're almost done. We are, however, taking up an entire lane in the 3-lane road. A group of three cars come up behind us and eventually passes us. One of the cars, Daddy's 1965 teal Ford Mustang (which is driven by a real douchebag, as you will soon find out) is stuck behind us. We are so inconsiderate, that he has to tap on his brakes for an entire 3 seconds while the other two cars pass us, so he can (not put on his blinker) whip around us. Now, it's totally fine to pass bikes on the road. Just don't maliciously swing back into our lane and cut us off. We are on 20 lb. pieces of aluminum which we are moving by raw sweat and tears. You are in control of a 1500 lb. piece of machinery you can drive while doing your nails or calling your frat brothers on your razor.
Anyway, he whips around us and cuts us off, proclaiming with his loud muffler, that despite whatever the sorority girls have been whispering, he does NOT have a small penis. Oh, and he flips us the bird. So, not to be out done, I flip him the bird back. Admittedly, not the smartest thing I've ever done, but dammit, this guy deserved it.
Now, he sees this, and instead of easing through the yellow light, since he was in such a hurry to get around us, he slams on his brakes, squealing his tires, jams the gears into park, and jumps out, and comes rushing towards us, obscenities spewing from his pretty-boy mouth. For those faint of heart, you may not want to read the following paraphrase:
"I could have f-ing made that light! What the f are you doing? Why the f are you taking up an entire lane?"
At this point, he's reached me and Eric, and comes up to me, plants both hands on my shoulders, and shoves me (still halfway on my bike, and in cycling shoes) to the ground. I was really in a state of shock, so I didn't really do anything except start cussing him out for a) cutting us off and b) flipping us the bird first. Now, I'm really wishing I'd come up swinging. To make a long story short, Eric and I cuss at him and he cusses at me and Eric for a minute or so. At this point, I think he realizes he's done something incredibly stupid, so he retreats to the car, mumbling something about "you better f-ing watch who you flip off in this town" No shit sherlock. You too. You'd better watch who you assault.
Eric and I take about 5 minutes to decompress before we head home. On the way there, we talk about the fact that there's probably not too many teal 1965 mustangs around town, and his car shouldn't be too hard to find. If only we'd gotten the license plate number.
We arrive in my neighborhood, and as we turn the corner onto my street, Eric says "You've gotta be f-ing kidding me." Sure enough, parked next to the side of our house (there's an appartment complex next to our house) was a teal 1965 mustang. We put our bikes inside and I run out side with a pencil and paper and grab his license plate number. Texas Plates: P36-LCZ.
So, I've got a few ideas. I'm going to call the cops tomorrow and file a complaint. Probably nothing will come of it, but I'm going to ask if they could at least send him a brouchure about how bikes have the same rights/responsibilities as any other vehicle on the road. I'm also going to go to the bike shop tomorrow and buy a dozen "Be Kind to Cyclists" bumper stickers. The next time I see this mustang, I'm plastering the chrome with these things. Maybe some shoe polish too.
Any suggestions as to how to get retribution? Jill? what are my chances with the cops? The only other eyewitness is Eric.
Geez, I'm pissed off. I'm actually a very safe cyclist. Unlike Eric, I go off the assumption that cars do not see me, and I'll take my right of way when I'm sure that I'm not going to get ground into the pavement. I wait at red lights, I at least slow down at all stop signs, and stop if there's a car there. Oh, and by the way, Cyclists are supposed to take up an entire lane. It lessens the chances of a road-rage fueled maniac trying to squeeze through an opening and running us off the road.
Douchebag.
Flat tires, car-bike collisions, fipping the bird, AND assault! Now are you interested? Read on.
Yesterday, Eric emailed me and asked if I wanted to go riding today. Since it's been a while since I took Gertie out, I readily agreed. I skipped out from work fairly early (5:30ish) and rode home to get ready. Around 5:45, Eric showed up. Apparently, he'd hit a pothole on his way over, and broken two of his spokes, so he was a little late. So, I donned my oh-so-fashionable yellow jersey I got from the Martindale Tri, and we were off.
The ride was fairly uneventful for the first 15 minutes. We crossed over 35 and started riding around downtown. Eric took the lead and we headed down the big hill on 15th street, across the Lamar bridge, and into the hoity-toity neighborhood over there. We were riding in traffic (with a red blinking light on my tukus, mind you) and were keeping up with the flow of traffic (it's pretty exhillirating on a bike, let me tell you!). Anyway, there was a lady in a Corrolla 50 yards in front of Eric, when all of a sudden, she decides to slam on the brakes. FOR NO APPARENT REASON!!! It was all Eric could do to stop in time. He said his wheels were skidding and his back tire was fish-tailing pretty bad, and he just barely managed to stop. The driver must have been lost or something because shortly after, the corrolla merged into the other lane and promptly did a U-turn.
So, after much cursing of bad drivers, we were off again. We toodled around the nice neighborhoods up there until Eric had a flat. Luckily, there was a street lamp nearby and he had all of his bike tools, so he was able to patch it fairly easily in ~15 minutes. At this point, Eric commented about how this bike ride was cursed. First, he breaks two spokes, next, he almost rear-ends a Corrolla, and now, he gets a flat tire. Under his breath, he mutters that probably next, he's going to break his leg.
After the flat, We rode up north, across MOPAC and back again. At 45th and Shoal Creek, we came to a 4-way stop. Eric waited his turn, and then charged out into the intersection. Ordinarily, this is not necessarily a bad thing. However, if it's dark, you don't have a headlight, and it's a busy road, I wouldn't necessarily advise it. Rather, I would wait until I was sure that all cars in the interesctions knew that I was there, and then cautiously cross. Not Eric. Before I knew it, he was on the bumper of a blue caprice. He didn't get hit all that hard, but it did bump him sideways a little bit. He got hit on his right side, but his left foot got stuck in the bindings of the pedal, and when he tried to put his left leg down to stabilize himself, he rolled his ankle pretty bad.
Luckily, both Eric and the bike were ok, as was the lady's car. She was pretty shook-up about it. I don't blame her. IMHO, Eric was as much at fault (if not more) than she was. His ankle is going to be pretty sore tomorrow. He's able to walk on it and was able to bike home, so I don't think anything was broken. Strained probably, but not broken. Hugh the firefighter (of Domino fame) was coincidentally at the same intersection in his fire truck. They stopped and made sure everything was ok.
So, after we recover from the latest scare, we decide we've had enough, and head home. We head back to my place on Dean Keeton. For those of you not lucky enough to reside in Austin, Dean Keeton is the street which separates the north of UT campus from the rest of the city. It's a fairly large street (6 lanes, 3 each way), well lit, but around 8:00 PM, it's not particularly busy. We're not moving particularly fast, because of Eric's ankle, and the fact that we're almost done. We are, however, taking up an entire lane in the 3-lane road. A group of three cars come up behind us and eventually passes us. One of the cars, Daddy's 1965 teal Ford Mustang (which is driven by a real douchebag, as you will soon find out) is stuck behind us. We are so inconsiderate, that he has to tap on his brakes for an entire 3 seconds while the other two cars pass us, so he can (not put on his blinker) whip around us. Now, it's totally fine to pass bikes on the road. Just don't maliciously swing back into our lane and cut us off. We are on 20 lb. pieces of aluminum which we are moving by raw sweat and tears. You are in control of a 1500 lb. piece of machinery you can drive while doing your nails or calling your frat brothers on your razor.
Anyway, he whips around us and cuts us off, proclaiming with his loud muffler, that despite whatever the sorority girls have been whispering, he does NOT have a small penis. Oh, and he flips us the bird. So, not to be out done, I flip him the bird back. Admittedly, not the smartest thing I've ever done, but dammit, this guy deserved it.
Now, he sees this, and instead of easing through the yellow light, since he was in such a hurry to get around us, he slams on his brakes, squealing his tires, jams the gears into park, and jumps out, and comes rushing towards us, obscenities spewing from his pretty-boy mouth. For those faint of heart, you may not want to read the following paraphrase:
"I could have f-ing made that light! What the f are you doing? Why the f are you taking up an entire lane?"
At this point, he's reached me and Eric, and comes up to me, plants both hands on my shoulders, and shoves me (still halfway on my bike, and in cycling shoes) to the ground. I was really in a state of shock, so I didn't really do anything except start cussing him out for a) cutting us off and b) flipping us the bird first. Now, I'm really wishing I'd come up swinging. To make a long story short, Eric and I cuss at him and he cusses at me and Eric for a minute or so. At this point, I think he realizes he's done something incredibly stupid, so he retreats to the car, mumbling something about "you better f-ing watch who you flip off in this town" No shit sherlock. You too. You'd better watch who you assault.
Eric and I take about 5 minutes to decompress before we head home. On the way there, we talk about the fact that there's probably not too many teal 1965 mustangs around town, and his car shouldn't be too hard to find. If only we'd gotten the license plate number.
We arrive in my neighborhood, and as we turn the corner onto my street, Eric says "You've gotta be f-ing kidding me." Sure enough, parked next to the side of our house (there's an appartment complex next to our house) was a teal 1965 mustang. We put our bikes inside and I run out side with a pencil and paper and grab his license plate number. Texas Plates: P36-LCZ.
So, I've got a few ideas. I'm going to call the cops tomorrow and file a complaint. Probably nothing will come of it, but I'm going to ask if they could at least send him a brouchure about how bikes have the same rights/responsibilities as any other vehicle on the road. I'm also going to go to the bike shop tomorrow and buy a dozen "Be Kind to Cyclists" bumper stickers. The next time I see this mustang, I'm plastering the chrome with these things. Maybe some shoe polish too.
Any suggestions as to how to get retribution? Jill? what are my chances with the cops? The only other eyewitness is Eric.
Geez, I'm pissed off. I'm actually a very safe cyclist. Unlike Eric, I go off the assumption that cars do not see me, and I'll take my right of way when I'm sure that I'm not going to get ground into the pavement. I wait at red lights, I at least slow down at all stop signs, and stop if there's a car there. Oh, and by the way, Cyclists are supposed to take up an entire lane. It lessens the chances of a road-rage fueled maniac trying to squeeze through an opening and running us off the road.
Douchebag.
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