A Simple Question

How’s your day goin’?

I turned to see who was asking.

There was a young woman driving a pickup – she was in the right turn lane right next to me. Her window was down. She was smiling. When the expected reply was slow to come she looked a tad self-conscious. I’m still wondering what to say to her.

Just moments prior as I rolled up to the traffic light I looked in my mirror – there was no one on the street as far as I could see. I was on Laguna Cyn Road in industrial Irvine where the roads are wide and bike lanes abound.

Seldom do I get friendly comments from people driving cars, least of all yesterday. Less than an hour earlier back in Corona del Mar, not one, but two motorists tried to run me off the road in less than a 30 second span. Probably neighbors of mine. The first guy, he was older and they can get impatient — “Move over!” he screamed as he roared past me in his BMW convertible. Jeesh, we were on Marguerite where there’s a 4-way stop on every block – Where’s he goin’ in such a hurry? Yes, I did almost catch up to him at the intersection.

The next guy was way more dangerous. He pulls out to pass and as he does he burns rubber – he is flying as he shaves me. No words were exchanged. I was too busy checking to make sure everything was ok. Then I noticed – he had a kayak on his roof and other playthings inside. Where was he coming from so pissed off? Is there such a thing as a bad day kayaking?

Back in Irvine all this flashed through my mind as I attempted to answer the young woman. Maybe she asked because she rides with her grandfather.

What was I up to? I was going to see my internist after last week’s colonoscopy. It will be my last time seeing him. It’s the way he spoke to me,

Benign, benign, benign…

So my day was turning into something like the Twilight Zone. Freaky bad then increasingly good.

I wanted to make a joke about going to buy a lottery ticket, but I couldn’t sort it out, besides I don’t play the lottery.

My long ride home was uneventful if not breezy. It’s not till I get back into CdM that things get spooky once again.

I’m riding the Sharrows on Coast Hwy – riding them right, controlling the lane – traffic obliges me and allows me to move over. It’s a little bit congested because it’s getting to be late afternoon. I’m heading to my pharmacist with a prescription; he’s just a few blocks ahead. I notice that traffic starts moving and I fall into line. The lane on my left is stopped and I’m apprehensive. A woman’s getting out of her car as I roll past then stop. The car behind me stops and he gets out. There’s a big black beautiful dog on the road, next to the median – it’s disoriented and I can see feces running down its leg. The woman shouts, “Good grief!” as she opens the back door of her SUV. The man driving the car behind me approaches the dog and herds him into the woman’s car. It all happens in 15 seconds – a possible doggie tragedy turns into a rescue. I start pedaling away before traffic gets moving – I’m guessing everyone’s gonna be distracted.

After a suitable lapse, as my druggist works on my prescription, I tell him of the dog rescue on Coast Hwy I just witnessed. He doesn’t miss a beat,

I wonder if they’d be that considerate to a cyclist in the same condition…

I don’t have a comeback for this either. I’m still wondering.

 

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Frank Peters

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