The other day I was riding my bike home from work. The sky was threatening rain, and I wanted to get home before the downpour began.

So when I was approaching the last stoplight on my route, I pushed my pace. Two blocks away, the light went green, and I wasn’t sure I could make it. The line of cars moved through the intersection and I was half a block away.

The approaching left turners had a flashing yellow light and first one, and then another, entered the gap between the last car ahead of me and my speeding bike. No problem, there was room, as long as the next vehicle, a truck, didn’t follow suit and not see me coming.

And, to be honest, the second car to turn left actually cut me off. I had to slow a little bit to avoid running into him, because he chose not to yield on his flashing yellow when I had the green.

As I pumped the brakes to avoid a collision, I mumbled a insult under my breath. There’s no way the driver could have heard me; his windows were rolled up.

And, for some reason, I saw him turning to look at me as I approached. For one brief moment our eyes met, and he flipped me the bird.

Yes, the guy who cut me off in traffic, taking his car in front of my through the intersection when he had the lowly flashing yellow and I had the good to go green, decided that my presence was offensive enough to his sensibilities that he had to demonstrate his displeasure – silently, since his windows were rolled up and I wouldn’t have heard him if he said something.

I rode on, beating the rain home and thinking about the incident. He was in the wrong. I was the one who should have flipped him off. I didn’t take it personally that he flipped me off, but I couldn’t help but laugh at the circumstances and his clearly poor knowledge of the proper order of things.

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