Sunday, January 17, 2010

X S UV, or American Woman at the Wheel


Riding home Friday early evening, on the bike path.

So, my Dear Gentler Readers of This Blog, I pack and do all the details the night before. Clothes have been ironed last weekend and are at work, hanging on the office door. Water bottles are full--post 27 mile commute ride-in munchie waits in my desk for my arrival--and I am seeing the gold lights of Tucson at 6 a.m. as I climb the cold foothills of the Tortolita Mtns (wherein lies my home in Dog Mtn) My my, mes amis, but it is bliss for the ride through the sleeping desert...

I came up with the stupid-ass idea to ride about six miles to my neighbors office after work--where she has a new job--and I throw in my bike into the SUV thing that is a land yacht--and we ride home. Its not quite light long enough to make it safe all the way back by bike.

Every night, Heather talks on her cell phone the entire trip back up to Dog Mtn. She is very loud with that cell-yell going on. She drives very fast, weaving in and out of traffic. She swears like a sailor at old people and slow people, and generally anybody that has a car that does not have the status of her SUV. Since she drives the largest, most expensive SUV--she is entitled to the road--all of it!

My neighbor is going to kill someone--or kill us both--or kill us both and kill someone all in the same shot. As she rants on the phone about meaningless bullshit to one of her illiterate girlfriends--I disappear it seems, and she forgets I'm riding in the seat next to her. Gentle Readers of This Blog, my neighbor is what every cyclist fears--and I have a front row seat--no wait, I'm like an anthropologist studying the ways of a primal warrior race.

Spoiled, self-centered, aggressive, and mean-spirited--Heather drives all over the road, weaves in and out and changes lanes suddenly--she sends text messages--and she tail-gates.

I believe Heather, my neighbor, is about 28 or maybe 30 years old. Her husband is one of my best friends. I love them both dearly... but holy shit! When she gets behind the wheel of her monster machine, she becomes a viper. Is this what America is all about? Me, me, me, get the fuck outta my way!

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1 comment:

Big Oak said...

On my way to work I pass a private "Christian" school with these same folks driving in and driving out. It scares the hell out of me - I can't tell you the number of close calls I've had. I don't think they pay attention to their driving, but as long as they are the biggest thing on the road they don't seem to give a crap. And they have the gall to honk at me on my bike!