To: Twenty-Something Pantload
From: Mitch Berg – Bike Sympathizer
Re: Next Time, You Get An Elbow In The Choppers
You know who you are. You’re a twentysomething hYpStR. You ride one of those trendy retro three-speed bikes with the cargo racks, in which you’d stuffed your backpack, some books, and (I have no doubt) your IPhone.
You were riding up Wabasha last night.
Now, I’m sympathetic; I usually ride up Wabasha at the end of the day, when I’m biking home. It’s that existential near-death experience that kicks off my ride home by making me appreciate life so much more.
But there’s a difference, here. I ride on the street.
I first saw you as I was walking up the sidewalk to the bus stop, as the cold was settling in. I heard a voice behind me, curtly demanding “excuse me”. I turned around; you were whisking past someone walking on the sidewalk behind me. You sailed past me, crowding me toward the wall just a little bit. You pedalled up the sidewalk, brushing a lady who was carrying a baby, as you tried to thread the needle between people getting on the 3 bus. You seemed – by your speed, as well as your “arrogant enough to have been a Loring Cafe waiter during their heyday” – to think it was our job to get out of your way.
Just saying; next time you try that, make sure Dadders is still paying your dental insurance.
That is all.
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