A Spate Of Bike Hate

Crossposted from the Bicycle Kitchen blog because I wanted to share the joy.

So during yesterday’s infinitely enjoyable edition of the monthly RIDE-Arc group roll and its nicely sized contingent of riders that traversed the town from the Arts District to Chavez Ravine to Koreatown and back downtown, we had the distinct displeasure of being verbally accosted by not one, but two individuals — each of them from disparate ends of the socio-economic spectrum.

The first tirade came from a substantially distraught and obviously destitute woman who laid into us unprovoked as we came off of Main Street and coasted past the Lady of Guadalupe mural outside the La Placita Church near Olvera Street. Spouting such maximum volume endearments as “Fucking bikers!” and “I fucking hate fucking bikers!” and “Get the fuck out of here you fucking bikers!” we bathed in her unconditional aggravation. And when I dared correct her saying “We’re not bikers… we’re cyclists,” she reeled from the retort and mewed something about how we shouldn’t be mean to her because she has the cancer.

Oh, sorry. See ya later hater.

The second incident came near the end of the night’s journey as we cruised up through the Theater District past the packed and happening Broadway Bar. A dapper and definitively drunkifed dingleberry who had just exited the establishment on his way to unwisely operating a motor vehicle was apparently able to focus his blurred vision long enough to see us pedaling past him and was kind enough to take the time to scream out how he really felt.

“Bikers!?” he said. “Fucking bikers! Gawd-dam liberal treehugger sunzabitches! I fucking hate you all!”

“Well we love you!” I yelled over my shoulder, to which he demonstrated some sort of Brokeback Broadway-type conflict. “I love you too…” he blurted out, “but I hate you more you self-sufficient retard liberal jackasses!”

Man, but it ain’t easy being green.

UPDATED: Stephen Roullier’s pix of the ride are here.

3 Replies to “A Spate Of Bike Hate”

  1. What’s with all the hate in LA? Maybe living in the mountains of Japan has made me soft, but geez. Makes coming back seem a little scary…

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