Shaking

This morning a giant scary guy in an enormous white truck tried to run me off the road on my bike, not once but twice.

The first time he came within about a foot of my handlebar and I yelled, "HEY!" and kept riding. Traffic was stopped at a light, and I passed him on my way to the front – not saying another word, but taking note of the vehicle and the guy in it.

A few minutes later he swerved toward me again, this time even closer. I saw him pull into the parking lot of the auto parts store, and was angry enough or stupid enough to follow him in. In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have done that. But I wanted to tell him ... I don't know what. I wanted him to know I was NOT intimidated by him, and that it's not OK to drive that way. I also thought I might get his license plate number, just in case.

The second he saw me he started screaming at me. He was just the kind of person you might expect to see in that kind of truck – a huge, burly construction worker type of guy, about 6'3" (taller than Mr. A, anyway, who is 6'2"), with a red face, a shaved head, sunglasses and clenched fat fists, screaming threats, obscenities, insults. The gist of it was that bikes don't belong on the road, that I should be riding on the sidewalk, and that I oughtta be run over.

I started to tell him that actually, it's not legal for bikes to be on the sidewalk, that bikes are required to stay on the road – but he wasn't listening. Then I said, "Think about how much your life is going to suck if you really hurt someone." To which his reply was, "YOUR life is gonna suck WHEN YOU'RE DEAD, you $&#*@$."

Not wanting to hear any more of that kind of talk, I left.

And only realized how upset I really was when I was unable to stop shaking enough to punch the code to get into my building.

After calming down a bit and at the insistence of my coworkers, I went ahead and filed a police report. The first thing they said was that the license plate number doesn't match the vehicle – the plate is registered in town, but it's coded for a passenger sedan, not a commercial grade truck. So it appears he's got more going wrong with him than just a murderous temper.

And even if they can find him, what will they do? Probably nothing. Maybe I shouldn't have called them at all, since I've been riding the same route every day for several years and am not that hard to spot ... if the guy should decide he really does want to run me over someday, instead of just scaring the shit out of me.

Well. I've read many similar stories on bike blogs, and now I've experienced it for myself. This was not just a careless driver in a truck that's way too big for him. It was an angry, hostile asshole who thinks the road is his personal property, who deliberately set out to make sure I know he has no intention of sharing it with anyone on a bike.

I don't know what I would like to see happen from this, except for this guy to be moved by what I had to say, and stop terrorizing people. Like THAT's going to happen.

Part of me would really love to see his truck impounded and his sorry ass forced to ride a bike for awhile. Maybe it would be good for him to slow down a bit, and see how many – most – drivers go out of their way to be safe, polite, and careful on the road.

Part of me would love to see some serious violence done to him, see him hurt and suffering and begging for mercy. Funny how an experience like this brings out my worst impulses, though I would never follow through on them. Makes me wonder what sort of experiences he must have had, to make him into a person who actually acts on his.

Ugh. Must set this aside and get back to my life.