dangerosity i ride my bike to work most days. usually i take routes that avoid traffic. but it's hot now. so i leave earlier. and there are more cars. lots more cars. now, if you're a bad driver and i'm in my car i might honk at you. road rage is stupid. cause really, cars are so safe, you'd be hard pressed to kill me. on the other hand, if you're a bad driver and i'm on my bike, you're gonna get glared at at the least. i might yak at you. usually gesticulating at the red light that you were in such a hurry to get to that you nearly orphaned my kids and widowed my wife. sometimes i actually stop and talk to the driver. i'm always polite. cause 2nd amendment. hey uh, can you make my commute a little safer please? there are three stereotypes: the clueless fuck who looks at me like they've never seen me before in their life and have no idea what i'm talking about. they're bad. but not as bad as the rager. fuck you! it's my road. the whole fucking road is mine. you hear me? mine! and i'll fucking run you over if you so much as wharrgharble. hurry darwin. hurry fast. and then there's the cyclist. i ride too! every day! you don't have to worry about me. i got you the whole way. you need to worry about him, not me. sheehs, these guys are the worst. i think they see the bicycle and their brain naturally assumes they know what you're going to do. and so they stop paying attention to the bicycle. it doesn't matter how much you wave at them. hey dude, i need to merge through your lane so i can get out of your way. they're pigeon-holed into a particular (and wrong) thought process. and no force on earth can knock their rigor mortisified brain out of their happy rut.  ¶ 8:00 AM