For the past five months, I’ve been semi-regularly cycling to work through Irvine and Newport Beach. It’s been great exercise, energy efficient, and lots of fun; but it’s also been terrible more often than I’d like to admit. After this weekend I’ll be moving farther away, and there’ll be no easy bike route, so that’s pretty much the end of that. Since I will miss it for the most part, I thought I should make myself feel better by listing the nine times I absolutely hated it.
1. Strangers–usually men–giving me “helpful” tips, such as how to properly lock my bike. Thank you, but I’m not an idiot. Also, don’t talk to me.
2. When I tried to walk my bike across the street from my office using the crosswalk, and some guy who wanted to make a right turn on red honked and called me a bitch. Fun times.
3. A woman complaining that my jacket was too dark for her to see me. That’s what reflectors are for, ma’am. Also the sun hasn’t even set.
4. The time I rode a couple miles for lunch, and found out that my tire was completely flat when I tried to leave.
5. When a fellow cyclist saw me coming, snickered to his friend, and then as we passed each other he asked if I “needed a guy.” I don’t know what that means, but I don’t like it.
6. Having to wear a giant coat, a scarf, and gloves so I wouldn’t freeze in the morning. Of course, halfway to work I’d start getting hot and there was nowhere to put it all.
7. The day I was biking home with my husband and a cyclist passed me, and then proceeded to try and draft off my husband. Have I mentioned we ride hybrid bikes (as in, not road bikes, not quite mountain bikes) and we’re always wearing work clothes? But even if we were on road bikes in cycling gear, this ain’t the Tour de France, buddy.
8. The time some jerk honked at me for going straight across an intersection on a green light, in the bike lane, because he couldn’t wait two seconds to make a right.
9. When a car would speed down the road way over the speed limit and pass so close to me that my bike would sway, and I’d start muttering to myself, “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die!”