A funny thing happened to me on the way past Burger King. I

got into an interesting exchange with a passenger in a VW bug.

I was cycling north on a heavily traveled strip close to my office,

hugging the curb like a broken beer bottle. As usual, I was conscious

of overtaking vehicles and wary of cars coming out of side roads.

A short distance ahead of me I noted the VW bug nudging out

into the curb lane from Burger King s parking lot (I ll slow down the

frames of this scene for study). The driver was looking me dead in

the eye, so I gave him the flat of my hand, sticking it out like a Hong

Kong policeman. But even with my stop sign in plain view, the

motorist kept pumping his brakes and nudging into traffic. To make

myself more visible, I gesticulated like a fan. At the same time I

yelled a series of No s in the strongest voice I could muster. Since the

driver s window was open, I am quite sure that he heard me. But still

he came, bouncing into traffic and into me. Having no choice, I

swung wide around him and almost got clipped by a truck.

Upset, I got off my bike and pushed it to the curb. Then the VW

pulled up alongside, the window came down, and a female

passenger demanded to know "What the hell do you think you re

doing?"

I explained in a voice quivering with control that I had been

obeying traffic laws, that I was plainly visible, and that I had given

appropriate signals. I also told her Chat the car had obstructed my

path and had almost sent me headlong into a truck.

At that she fumed that I "probably couldn t afford a car any-

way." And added with high seriousness that "it s a good thing you

are

mouth

(racial epithet), or I d get out and punch you in the