Like a Ghost
whether I like it or not
when I ride my bike through traffic I move through the traffic like a ghost
people pass me as if I am not there
I pass people before they can react or respond to my presence...
all they feel is the wind of my wake
never would I ask a car to stop for me as I am doing my thing
just as I have learned to never expect for someone to yeild to me when I have the right of way
with muscle and guts I take what I can
never given and inch, I am taking a little more than a foot
with elbows out and eyes alert I box the cars out of my space
sure I am thankful for those who stop, yeild, or avoid running me down
but
I have learned to always anticipate the worst
this way I get less angry
this way I stay more safe
this way I know not to depend upon anyone but myself
no one is looking out for me but me
this ghost is forced to think not just for himself but for all of those around me
lucky for me people are simple and easy to predict
always dumb it down for the driver
the driving style of a tourist is different than a transplant
the driving style of a Virginian is different from Marylander... which is different than DC driver
none worse then the other
all bad in their unique sort of ways
just because the turn signal indicates right.... does not mean that they are not going left
most of the time I know what these drivers are going to do before they know
the pedestrian hailing a cab is seen by me before the taxi driver makes his erratic cross lane shift and panic stop
the tourist hitting the brakes to gape at the Washington Monument or the gum on the sidewalk
the person looking for that open parking space
these things can be identified by the tilt of the head, the placement of the hands on the steering wheel, the rev of the engine, the style of car, and the license plate
paper tags are a thing I have come to fear
the Caprice Classic gets something that is misconstrued as respect
the roar of an engine combined with the pump of excessive base cause my spidey senses to tingle
I know that this is not a fight to choose
this is not the time to muscle for some space
this is the time to duck for cover and escape the cow catcher of a run away train
that is enough for now
whether I like it or not
when I ride my bike through traffic I move through the traffic like a ghost
people pass me as if I am not there
I pass people before they can react or respond to my presence...
all they feel is the wind of my wake
never would I ask a car to stop for me as I am doing my thing
just as I have learned to never expect for someone to yeild to me when I have the right of way
with muscle and guts I take what I can
never given and inch, I am taking a little more than a foot
with elbows out and eyes alert I box the cars out of my space
sure I am thankful for those who stop, yeild, or avoid running me down
but
I have learned to always anticipate the worst
this way I get less angry
this way I stay more safe
this way I know not to depend upon anyone but myself
no one is looking out for me but me
this ghost is forced to think not just for himself but for all of those around me
lucky for me people are simple and easy to predict
always dumb it down for the driver
the driving style of a tourist is different than a transplant
the driving style of a Virginian is different from Marylander... which is different than DC driver
none worse then the other
all bad in their unique sort of ways
just because the turn signal indicates right.... does not mean that they are not going left
most of the time I know what these drivers are going to do before they know
the pedestrian hailing a cab is seen by me before the taxi driver makes his erratic cross lane shift and panic stop
the tourist hitting the brakes to gape at the Washington Monument or the gum on the sidewalk
the person looking for that open parking space
these things can be identified by the tilt of the head, the placement of the hands on the steering wheel, the rev of the engine, the style of car, and the license plate
paper tags are a thing I have come to fear
the Caprice Classic gets something that is misconstrued as respect
the roar of an engine combined with the pump of excessive base cause my spidey senses to tingle
I know that this is not a fight to choose
this is not the time to muscle for some space
this is the time to duck for cover and escape the cow catcher of a run away train
that is enough for now