New Phylum!

The Guardian has a video today on riding the Manchester Velodrome. Very cool, and even cooler that they sent a woman BIKER, not some twit whose sole mission is to look like a girl in front of the well-trained men, as would have happened in a US reportage.

Guardian to the track

That cheered me up – the sight of the clean track, the well-ordered systems… Ah, Britannia, why didn’t you colonize a little closer to home? Last night, of course, my ride home couldn’t have been further from orderly, but I was thrilled to discover a new phylum of Czech motorized douchbaggery! Join me in exploring the world of the Fucktard Flasher!

The taxi driver is a species unto himself and deserves the rankest abuse reflexively. Imagine, an overweight Czech man who would rather be drinking beer, driving someone else’s car as part of the job which, of course, he doesn’t like. What you get is the epitome of slovenly, the aspiration to murder. These George Mallorys of douchebagistan don’t need a reason to drive a cyclist off the road. The Flashing Fucktard takes things a few steps further, blasting you with his headlights as he approaches, attempting dually to blind and murder you, then blocking your way like he works for the fucking Secret Service and he’s Keanu Reeves on a mission to save Sandra Bullocks from a vegetarian terrorist. These are particularly popular maneuvers on one-way streets in Prague, most of which are marked with a little sign exempting certain public service vehicles and bicycles from the one-way rule. They are low-speed zones, and aside from the occasional presence of taxi drivers, they are usually safe.

So I’m riding up Stepanska, hugging the row of parked cars because of the pantywaste flying at me with his brights flashing. He rolls up and shouts out his window that I am “a fucking idiot and he might just kill me” in Czech. I appease him gently by responding in Czech that “I don’t speak Russian, I’m sorry,” which puts him into a right fume. Poor Honza! Watch that blood pressure, buddy! Paired with that blue pill you pop to make the nights with TV NOVA flow a little smoother you’re mixing up a tall cool glass of heart attack in the Herna bar! I swear he turned purple as I sat there grinning at him like an idiot. Of course, his mind is blown. What to do? Continue on the “I will crush you” tack or respond to this new insubordination? I left him to think about it, giving his cab a nice, friendly pat goodbye as I rode off.

Here’s where the new phylum comes into play: Honza actually remembered he was on a one way street! He didn’t back up recklessly, like I was expecting and hoping! Instead, he pummeled his horn and shouted at me to “Get back here! I’ll kill you!” Thanks for the offer, Honza, but I’ve got to get home – I’ve got a blog to write, after all, and a call to National Geographic that’s gonna take some time.

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~ by themicah on August 25, 2009.

One Response to “New Phylum!”

  1. I,m looking around for some ski poles here in france. I found some with graphite shafts, but we need aluminum. You got a drill and hacksaw.

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