I love Coney Island. I love its commitment to its own ridiculousness. Today, I am here before it becomes Coney Island of the summer. Before the rides open and the people.invade the beach. It’s nice, and a much better time since I’ve brought two kids with me. There is this sense of anticipation and also abandonment. I’m so used to the crowds and noise and piles of trash that today feels like a ghost town.
Last night, on the first lovely evening of bike riding, I got to deal with one of those drivers that hates bikers. Like to the point that you wonder if there were not other people on the road if they would run you down. They drove where their lights hit my mirror and shone right into my eyes and stayed there for a good few long blocks. I finally put my hand to block it, then they pass me and get to red light and are sure to pull over close to the parked cars so that I cannot fit through. But I find a way around hit (hey, driver! my bike can fit through parked cars and go on a sidewalk). They must be getting really angry that they are wasting gas while being unable to get away from me and my bike. I totally figured that the driver was a 20 something dude. I finally yelled a name at them as I went up on the sidewalk (again) and got a glimpse: 50 something woman! Really, lady? Why are you activating my road rage? There is no need. We can share the road. I know, I’ve done it before!