An Open Letter to the NYC Cabbie with medallion 9M31

Hey douchebag! Yeah you, dickwad!

Remember me? Saturday afternoon, East 61st Street? Let me refresh your memory: I was the young woman on the pink bike riding west on the far left side of the left lane, close to the curb. The middle and right lane were completely clear but you choose to come speeding within inches of my handlebar in the left lane in an effort to get ahead of, and in front of, the guy approaching in the middle lane.

Well guess what, asshole? I'm an actual real live flesh and blood human being who could have been pretty horribly mangled or killed if you had actually come into contact with me or my bike.

But my life, my entire existence, just didn't mean that much to you - getting in front of that other car was all that mattered. So you put my life at risk, just so that you could arrive at the light first, in the lane of your choosing. Obviously, that's far more important than me keeping my limbs or continuing to live and breathe. Obviously.

It happened so fast and scared the hell out of me. I remember screaming out-loud "JESUS MOTHER *&^%$@!#$!(*&^!!!!" as you sped past me. I was totally shaken, literally trembling, but continued riding straight up to the light. There, the light was red, and your cab was waiting for the light. Now you were in the far right lane. You had achieved your goal of getting around the guy in the middle lane and getting into the first position in the far right lane. Bravo! And good thing you nearly killed me - so you could arrive at a red light 3 seconds sooner than you would have otherwise. Nice job!

I quickly photographed you (see above) and wanted to confront you on the driver side, but there was no room for me and bike to reach you (as you can see in the photo), so I approached your vehicle on the passenger side. The window was rolled up. I banged on it so furiously, I thought for sure the glass, or my hand, would break. Neither did.

I started off with a big fat middle finger for you. You rolled down the window and when I screamed at you (much to the horror of your passengers, who of course witnessed this event) "WHAT THE F&^% WAS THAT BACK THERE?!" You had the NERVE to yell back at ME - pointing to the right side of the street and scolding me that the bike lane was on the right side of the street.

Don't. Even.

First:
1- There is no designated or painted bike lane on that street. When there is a bike lane, I use it. Of course, many vehicles do not respect the lane, so I photograph them and often shout "BIKE LANE!" at them as I pass (yes, I've become one of those cyclists...)
2- I prefer riding on the left side of one way streets when there is no designated bike lane because there is less chance of getting doored by parked cars.
3- REGARDLESS of what side of the street I was riding on and whether or not there was a bike lane, YOU AND YOUR SEVERAL TON, SPEEDING METAL BOX ON WHEELS DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT TO COLLIDE INTO A FRAGILE HUMAN BEING ON A BICYCLE!

I tried to summarize that for you at the time but couldn't get all of those words out fast enough and knew I had seconds before the light changed. So I pretty much summed up my thoughts with several very loud, very angry "F^%$ YOU"s instead.

The light turned green and I gave you the finger one more time. Still trembling, I took off, continuing on 61st Street and turning south on 5th Ave when I hit Central Park. As I rode from 61st Street down to at least 50th Street, I was still shaking from the adrenaline of nearly getting hit, followed by the confrontation with you. It was not pleasant.

In summary, sir, in case you missed on Saturday, I'd like to remind you to go f&^% yourself. You clearly do not value human life and should not be operating a vehicle on the streets on Manhattan. Or anywhere, for that matter.

F&*^#@! you.
I mean that sincerely: f*&^$# you,
*Bitch Cakes*