Today I jumped on my bicycle to make a quick trip to the grocery store. I was sitting at a stop sign directly across the street from the entry to the store’s parking lot, waiting for a break in traffic so that I could cross. Observing traffic, I saw that I would be able to cross as soon as the pickup truck coming from the right went past.
However, the truck, didn’t pass - the driver instead turned into the same entry I was aiming for. No problem, I’ll just follow the guy right on in.
Except that, instead of just driving into the parking lot, the old man came to an almost complete stop, and then carefully and ever so sloooooowly inched his great big fucking four-wheel-drive pickup truck over the bump made by the cutout in the sidewalk that forms the entry to the parking lot.
Because I had expected him to pull smoothly into the parking lot, I had already started across the street on my bicycle so as to follow the truck in. I certainly was not expecting this old geezer to treat his great big fucking four-wheel-drive pickup truck as if it were made of eggshells! His sudden slowing to approximately two feet per second forced me to hit my brakes, leaving me stuck in the middle of the goddam road, in the path of more oncoming traffic!
His great big fucking four-wheel-drive pickup truck was so long that I couldn’t even swerve to go around him - he was diagonally blocking the whole driveway to the right. I couldn’t swerve left because there were cars coming out of the lot on that side, and that would have put me in the path of the old man’s great big fucking four-wheel-drive pickup truck anyway.
Now, pardon me if I’m showing my ignorance here, but aren’t most great big fucking four-wheel-drive pickup trucks designed in a sturdy manner? Shouldn’t they be able to withstand the slight bump that accompanies turning from the street into a partking lot? Am I safe in assuming that one of these behemoths is not going to shatter if the driver maintains a speed of, oh, four miles per hour whilst making said turn?
Good Lord. The guy went over the bump as if he was driving a low-slung sports car and he was afraid he would scrape his undercarriage if he crossed the bump too fast…
My 60-year-old mother and 64-year-old stepfather are going to buy themselves a pickup and a fifth-wheel trailer as soon as they sell their house. I’m going to sit down and have a heart-to-heart talk with them about this kind of thing at the earliest opportunity.
I’m glad I always wear a helmet when I bike.