thank you, mr. pickup truck
Friday night: dinner for two at home, followed by plenty of ice cream. Then I realize that I forgot something important in my office so I decide that I need to swing by there to get it. Let’s ride our bikes!
It’s a mere 1.5 mile ride from my house door to my office door. I convince T. that we don’t need our helmets, let’s just hop on the Raleighs and go. We ride and it’s fun and my scarf is blowing in the wind and I turn to say: Isn’t it nice to not wear a helmet? Doesn’t it feel so much better?
And then some twenty year old real cool guy turns his truck unto the road we are crossing and purposely pulls up within inches of us, all the while making eye contact, just to let us know. Know what? That we shouldn’t be here? Do we need a truck to have a right to the road?
Jerks like that are the reason why we need to wear our helmets. It just would be nice if that weren’t the case though.