"About a week ago, I found myself on a backstreet in Ravenswood, trailing a cyclist without a helmet riding on old-style ten speed with a courier bag slung over his back. It appeared to me that he didn’t know I was there while we were both approaching the upcoming stop sign. I say he didn’t know I was there because it seemed he was off in his own world, daydreaming while riding, and was clearly hearing-impaired from the huge Beats headphones he had on. Being the (sometimes) nice and courteous guy that I am, I figured I’d just give him a heads-up that I was there. So I tooted my horn lightly.
Oh, spare me the white man’s burden crap. It appeared he didn’t know you were there? Why? Because he had an “old-style ten speed” and a “courier bag?” Because he didn’t have a helmet? (Like that even fucking matters.) Because he was wearing headphones that may or may not have been playing music at a volume completely unknown to you? He could have been listening to “News from Lake Wobegon” for all you know. ”Appearances” don’t mean shit. I mean, when I see a mushy putz driving an SUV like the guy who wrote this article, it “appears” to me that they couldn’t possibly achieve or sustain an erection (much less hear or see a thing what with his radio and cellphone and cabin insulation and climate control and blind spots), but that doesn’t mean I attempt to have sex with their spouse or life partner for them.
Anyway, so what if he didn’t know you were there? He doesn’t really have to know you’re there. You have to know he’s there because you’re the one approaching from behind. So wait until it’s safe to pass him and then do so. Don’t honk at him, especially as you’re approaching a fucking stop sign. It’s irritating enough when people honk at you for no reason, but it’s quadruply annoying when they do it at a stop sign or red light, and if you want to know why sometimes we’re inclined to roll those things then there’s your fucking answer.
And for fuck’s sake, how do you honk your horn “lightly?” Horns don’t modulate—it’s on or it’s off, you twit! Nobody can detect the nuances in your car horn. We can’t even detect the nuances in your prose because you’re such a shitty hack.
So, unsurprisingly, the hack gets the finger:
Guess I should have known better. Not that I expected a waive from the cyclist, nor did I expect him to stop and say thank you, but I didn’t expect him to give me the one-finger salute in a long, protracted, five-second long flip-off accompanied by a scornful face.
Hey moron, maybe he was just flipping you off “lightly”—you know, just so you knew that he was there.”