Friday, July 13, 2012


On my way to go work out (a luxury I know I'm going to have to stop paying for here soon), I rode by a construction zone. No big thing. But, of course, some jackass in a truck decides he's going to make the light that's pretty bright yellow (which I didn't see and you'll find out why) and whizzes by me, blowing a fistful of dust into my eye. The obvious bodily reaction is to close your eyes as they well up, and as I opened them I realized that I was running the red light. Fortunately for me, Portland drivers are rarely in a hurry to get anywhere (except this truck guy obviously) and I didn't get hit. But seriously? I mean, what the fuck, asshole? You're in that big of a hurry that you have to torture the hardworking cyclist who's just trudged up a hill? Take a lesson from every other driver in Portland and chill out! My eyes were secreting protective tears for six blocks.

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