May 28, 2008

Science proves it: Nice people exist.

A cathartic diary-bookend to last week's run-in with small-time hood/brothel-bouncer "Jack":

My address allows me a great luxury: biking to work on the Mark Goodson/Bill Todman trail - twice a week, if I can help it. There is a slight kink in the route, though. Coming west, at Park Lawn, you need to take a left on Lake Shore Blvd. W. (The alternative is continuing another 200m on the path into a strange condominium cul-du-sac/mobius loop.)

The kink in the kink is that turning left on LSBW is impossible if no car is along for the ride - your bike won't trip the sensor. So sometimes I cheat by riding the sidewalk until I can bolt onto the road like that jagoff cyclist we love to hate.

While aggressively navigating the sidewalk yesterday, I'm cut off by a Honda that blasts out of Marina Del Ray and stops right in my path. I brake suddenly (but easily) and give him the mockingly polite "after you, my liege" arm extension.

Dude rolls down his window and says, "Sorry, man. That was bad form."

"No problem", I reply with complete sincerity. "I really shouldn't be riding on the sidewalk."

"Oh man, I do that all the time around here. Kinda have to. Anyway, have a great day. Sorry bout that," says he.

"Don't worry about it. Take it easy."

I smile all the way home. It helped that his son was in the back seat.

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