Here's how the ride home went: fine. Except for maybe some other bicyclists, who might be trying to mess with me. Listen, I'm in no mood for this nonsense. I get it- DC is full of type-A yahoos who are super-competitive and think- nay, know- that they're better than everyone else at everything. But let's all relax and stop treating each light like it's the commencement for a drag race. It's annoying and even irksome and I'm tired of you bothering of me with your foolishness. Could I ignore you? Maybe. But it's hard to ignore someone who passes within inches and then lines up inches in front of you. Just cut it out, already. I'm exasperated.
When you take the lane, ride in the middle of the lane. It helps. It conveys the message that you're really in the travel lane and not just sort of in it by accident. Clarity is always a good idea. Claritin is a good idea if you have allergies. Claire de Lune is good if you're into Debussy. If you're allergic to Debussy, I don't know what you should do.
11th and then E across town. E works, but it's not my preferred route. A little too much car traffic and a few too many opportunities for drivers to cut across the bike lanes. Also, a few hills and one of the hills might be a result of having to drive over an urban expressway. I took E because I met a friend for drinks at the Dubliner, which is nearish Union Station. I drank beer, but not Irish beer. We were two gallants and then we left. No stealing though.
From there it was a quicksh jaunt down Massachusetts when whom did I encounter but none other than GAGA FAN. Proof (sort of):
|If you squint, you can maybe make out the license plate. Maybe. It's the convertible.|
And what was GAGA FAN listening to? Train. Revoke the license plate.