Birds of a Feather

To the young woman bicyclist who flipped me off when I was behind her on the Thursday before Memorial Day weekend: That really wasn’t necessary.

I came up on you on that first curve up from Roosevelt; not going to pass you there as it was unsafe for us both. Around the corner there was traffic. I eased out to judge if I had room to pass then moved back as the oncoming vehicle was moving too fast.

And you threw me the bird. I hadn’t honked, I hadn’t revved my motor, I wasn’t impatient. I had just refused to pass you in an unsafe situation.

I’d love to know what I did to engage your ire; I’m a bicyclist too, and I’m puzzled.

Margaret Weller