I have ridden motorcycles. I defy you to find a red-blooded american male (in a rural or semi-rural area) who hasn’t. I’ve even ridden without a helmet or a license, because, er, well duh…
I state this, for the record, to illustrate that I have at least a modicum of knowledge about what one should or should not do while operating such a conveyance. In the course of my commute home this evening, I encountered a suicidal dipstick.
I was driving down The Longest Exit Ramp In North America (aka Exit 8 [Defreestville] of the dinky free part of I-90 that runs through/past Albany) when the aforementioned suicidal dipstick did something suicidally stupid.
Once again, for the record, I should note that I drive a compact little Ford F-150 pickup, and dipstick had his ass to the breeze on a huge-assed Honda (I think, I didn’t get a good look) two-banger (small displacement).
Thanks for hanging in here with me folks, I’ll get to the rant now.
I was coming up to the stop light at Washington Avenue (told you it was a looong exit ramp) with no vehicles ahead of me, and braking in a prudent fashion so as to roll up to the stop line in a civilized manner. I wasn’t really thinking about Dipstick because when I passed him I was in the right-hand lane going east into North Greenbush, and he was in the left lane behind a long stack of cars going west into Rensselaer.
Then, and only then, did Dipstick decide he was in the wrong lane. So he guns his little wheezer, and drives on top of the lane markers, between a lane of traffic that is stopped, and one that is moving just as fast as he can, and cuts into my lane just ahead of my front bumper.
I had to brake. Hard. Not only to keep from punting Dipstick into the bushes, but also to maintain the “courtesy distance” that everyone should allow when stopped behind a motorcycle. I am, and shall eternally remain, grateful that I didn’t get rear-ended.
When the light turned green, Dipstick did it again. While charging up to the next (red) light, which is all of two hundred yards away, albeit around a broad curve, Dipstick cut to the left just in front of a very startled older lady driving a Civic.
I figured I was done with Dipstick, but I kept half an eye on him anyway. It’s a good thing I did, because he skinned my front bumper and slammed to a stop again, just to get ahead of me at the light at Rt. 4. Once again, I left rubber on the road in an effort not to kill him.
Thankfully, the Best Road light was green when he got to it, so the last I saw of Dipstick was his taillight going away at about 90 mph.
So, some other poor sap will be unwittingly involved in his death.