I highly doubt he ‘asked’ the kids to get out of his way, especially if it was who I think it was.

A few weeks ago, a truck from Brighton Towing pushed me into the curb while I was traveling in the bike lane in the Brookline end of Harvard St., southbound. When we reached a red light, I hollered ‘Too Close’, at the driver, as I am wont to do when speedy parasites infringe upon my lanespace. When he caught up with me again, he swerved into the bike lane ON PURPOSE this time, screaming out the window. Assault with a deadly tow truck, I’d call that. Anyway, I found out his name is Jay, via calling the number ON HIS TRUCK. Idiot.

Seems someone got their just desserts at Brighton Towing, probably for following this same driving/public relations pattern. I really hope it was our good friend Jay. Karma is a dirty bitch, and I buy her a whole lot of drinks.

In response to this post in Boston Biker.

“there’s nothing we can do about drivers not paying attention.”

from the follow-up article

People often ask me why I’m so hard on drivers, and why I am so ruthless on the road – quick to find fault, quick to use my schoolyard bellow and let people know what an ass they’re being. Frankly, this is why. We have no other power. I have been hit by an Audi, called the cops and had them tell me ‘sorry, but there’s nothing we can do’. I’ve been hit by a bus and told, ‘this driver has worked for the MBTA for over 19 years, we are confident that she is a competent driver’. I have had a woman reach out her passenger side window and grab me by my helmet and SLAP me, AND I STILL DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT SHE WAS SO UPSET ABOUT. I wasn’t hurt in any of these instances, so apparently they are not offenses that matter to police or the general public. I ride safely, I wear my helmet and I obey the law insofar as I try to never inconvenience another person on the road, but I know that if I am hit, harassed, assaulted or verbally abused, I have no way to bring justice to the people that have abused me with their aggression, negligence and outright ignorance. I can do nothing at all to call attention to abusive, aggressive or negligent drivers unless I am injured, but alive. Even if I AM alive to tell the tale, there is no guarantee I will be able to catch the plate number of the vehicle if they speed off (as the Audi did, after the operator screamed, “I should run you off the road!”). We are riding naked, and there is no one on our side. This is why I have no mercy for the people that take the privilege of driving for granted – I have no other choice. Out there on the road, no other voice is speaking up for us.

Typical. It rained cats, dogs and dinosaurs on my morning commute and now, the sun is out. My poor office chair has a huge wet butt-print in it. I’m going to be soaked for the rest of the day. It could be worse, though. I could be on fire.

I almost called in sick to work today, owing to the fact that all my friends have tried to give me the sheep shingles, or the buffalo buboes, or whatever the fuck virus is going around right now. Coyote crabs. Seal scabies. Rhinoceros Rickets. Viper vapors. But try as I might, I simply could not get my temperature to go above 96.8. Damn this superior Germanic constitution of mine.

Anyone who knows me can tell you I loathe children of all ages. I also think, and feel free to disagree with me here, that bike seats for toddlers are possibly the worst idea ever. And those things they make to attach an extra seat and pedals to a large bike just don’t work that well, and frankly just look super dumb. What I saw today on my ride, though, hit me with a wave of nostalgia for my own misspent youth, and the days when Dadoo Climbout was teaching me how to ride my own bike.
A woman on a hybrid, dressed in dour work attire with appropriately ugly safety helmet approached mass ave. cautiously from a cross street. Following along behind her looked like nothing less than her double in slight miniature, but of the opposite sex. She stopped and waited for the light, and when the green was in her favor, motioned for her obvious progeny to proceed along behind her. I was forcibly reminded of a mother goose leading her goslings across a busy street. It was pretty fucking adorable, and it was exactly right. This shining parental example almost makes up for the woman I saw jaywalking against rush hour traffic yesterday dragging her special little snowflake along by the arm, both obviously bound for ballet class. Chalk it up to bad parenting, little ballerina, if you end up ruining your dancing career after a tragic incident involving an SUV, a latte, and an errant text message. I’m a horrible person.

Just an FYI: I didn’t reverse the digits – I just have a naturally low body temp. Fo realz!

Today’s experiment yielded a chap going up the pedestrian ramp, on a bike, suuuuper slowly. I felt a bit bad for him until I passed and realized that he was doing it with one hand because in the other he was holding a cup of Dunk. “The coffee, it’s a handicap!”, I exclaimed. (see: The goggles, they do nothing!) I hope he understood that I was just playing with him. He then proceeded to blow through every red light all the way up Harvard St. in Allston. Holding a coffee. I wish I’d caught his name so I can keep an eye out for it in the police notes.

The second anomaly of today was a large tow truck, marked Brighton Towing, Inc.   The truck swerved into the bike lane to avoid a ‘$100 fine’ standing mid-road sign and was close enough to brush my elbow. At the next red light I hollered “TOO CLOSE!” into  his window, as a public service announcement. I’m nice like that. As he passed me farther on he swerved in toward me threateningly and yelled something out of the window that was entirely unintelligible but obviously negative, so at the NEXT red light I stopped and queried at his window. I’m not sure if his face was just built like that or if he was actually really trying, but he was giving me the most moronic look I’ve ever seen on another human being. Given the amount of reality TV I’ve seen in the past I was not a little bit impressed. He ended his rant of garbled nonsense with ‘why are you riding a bike, are you not right in the head?’…

What does one say to this, really?

What drivers of large vehicles owned by small businesses need to understand is that if they act like idiots on the road, all you or I have to do is stroll inside and google the name of their company. I called Brighton Towing, and I now know that the operator that threatened me goes by the name of Jay. I didn’t go to the police because I don’t really have anything to show (and man do they hate to be bothered unless you’re bleeding), but I DO know how to contact him if I need to, and I know the address of his place of business, and his email address. Good going, Jay. May you land yourself the role of a lifetime in the next season of ‘Traffic Wars’.

In the crosswalk.  I threw my bagel and hit the car. Then I ate the bagel. Everyone who drives in Brookline is an assclown.

Yesterday was a bad day to be a biker. For me, anyway. Sure, the weather was great. Sunny skies, zero humidity. Exhausted, hung over and sleep deprived. Crotchety. In the middle of the intersection at N. Harvard and Cambridge in Allston,  my gear line snaps. Yeah. So I get to coast between two huge rattling trucks  and various red light runners to the edge of the road. My cable had wrapped itself around my cranks multiple times. I work in Brookline. The 66 bus has no bike rack. FML. So walked it to work, and along the way I got to enjoy at length the smells I only get whiffs of on my daily trek through Allston. Many parts of Allston smell exactly like the plugs in my ears after a few months of neglect. Yum. Closer to Brookline, or maybe inside, there is the smell of salty, sizzling beef, and it makes my mouth water every time. What I really want to know about is one smell I only smell on my way home in the evening, somewhere between coolidge and commonwealth along Harvard. It’s pizza, but it’s the kind of pizza you go out of your way for – WAY out of your way. I’ve never been able to pinpoint where the smell is coming from.

Anyway, I was able to  re-rig my slinkiefied shifter cable, after much sweating and swearing. I had to make up my lost time at work, however, so I hit the worst of the evening traffic on my way home.  I have no words, or rather, far too many words for the extreme douchebaggery I witnessed on the road yesterday. All I can do is link this, the import of the image I sadly admit it took me a few looks to fully grasp. I’m a bit slow sometimes.

So, to raise my spirits:

Thursday, August 27th, 2009. North Harvard St.

blue skies and open roads

Seems like everyone has voiced their opinion about my little ticketing gag. Oh, what fun! Watch the internet chase it’s tail just because of one little snook cocked at one oblivious motorist. Well, since this has been deemed SO controversial, I say: do it again! I found a pack of 100 tickets on Amazon for $15 (this is the best deal I’ve found so far, they are most often sold 5 a pack for 5 bucks). Here’s the link if you want to join in on the fun!

In other news: by Jove it’s a lovely day today! Not a spec of humidity, hardly a cumulonimbus to be seen. Definitely smacking of New England Autumn, my favorite season ever. This morning’s ride was a turnip for the books: not an unruly vehicle in sight, AND I got a compliment on my sweet-ass Yakkay helmet from a motorist who was next to me at a red light. I love this helmet – I’ve never had one that didn’t bunch up at the back of my neck before, and I really hate the ‘speedy swiss cheese’ look of most available bike helmets. It’s too bad they’re not available in the states yet, I’d love to get a couple different ‘covers’ for mine. Maybe I will sew a cover that looks like a monster head or a space helmet… oh the possibilities. Oh shit, I wonder if these would fit my helmet.

if you can hear the music, it means I'm right behind you!

So cool. Or as Monsieur Danny Rocks would say, ‘so aggressively uncool’.

I need a new bike. I have a nice big chunk of change earmarked for this new bike. I know exactly what I want to be riding, from stem to stern, as it were. You’d think it’d be easy to walk into a shop and/or a custom build boutique and say “here, have my moneys and give me this not so complex item” but noooo. It seems that all the shops are too busy (or too cool) to need my cash, and the designers are all so backed up that there’s no way I’d be getting anything concrete until the middle of next summer. What’s a girl to do? I want a bike, and I want it NOW(ish)! I know that if I don’t get someone to help soon, I’m going to just break down and get a pre-assembled POS to ride for another year, and I won’t be satisfied. Grr.

In other news, it seems that they have decal’d and signed the bike lane on N. Harvard, which is awesome. Not so awesome is the fact that it seems tickets are no deterrent to the people who really want to park there. I wonder how much they are ticketing for. I think this afternoon I’ll stop and take a peek at the total price of being a douchebag. At the same time I may leave a ticket of my own. Here’s a peek:

My phone cam is crappy, but on the back of the fake ticket you can check boxes on such violations as:

• Parking like a Jackass
• Taking up 2 Spaces (Jerk)
• Being Illiterate (it says ‘RESERVED’)
• Ugly Driver Violation

And much much more! You can get these fakey tickets at bigmouthtoys.com.