I hate these people, and I feel justifiedish enough to be open about it it.
Of all the trifling, stupid ass things to be smug about - bicycling. Not casual riders, but the intense hobbyists who buy the little 1920s swimsuits and thousand dollar bikes and race up Dreamy Draw like it's their fucking job. Why I hate them: they are SO INCREDIBLY RUDE. ALL OF THEM. They seem to feel entitled to the entire street. Entitled in a resentful, angry way, as though cars are the enemy, as if you won't see them loading their bikes onto a Hummer H2 an hour from now. I concede that they are pretty easy to kill/maim on their little bikes, which is why I do keep an eye out for them, but don't think I won't instantly lose my temper when some errant Lance decides to unnecessarily ride in the center of a neighborhood street, leaving no room for cars to pass. When you do pass him, he is angry! He wants you to drive 8 mph behind him, admiring his gristly, ropy body as he sways furiously on his dream machine. Blow me, Lance. Get a real hobby, you yuppie fool. Try taking all of that time, money and anger and directing it into a more relevant occupation, LIKE BLOGGING. Who could possibly derive such smug satisfaction from such a useless, pretentious engagement? Riding your bike really hard over hills? That's one for the history books. Does the President know about you?
If my reaction seems strong, then I encourage you to live on a street favored by cyclists. In 6 months, you would be sitting on your roof, trying to shoot tires out with a bb gun, I promise.
Oh, here's another thing - the ones whose little suits are covered in sponsor logos. I KNOW YOU CAN BUY THEM THAT WAY, BLAINE. No, I do not believe that Dyson has sponsored you for your weekly trek through the Squaw Peak Preserve. Jesus Christ! I can't deal with this. Much of the point of this hobby is display. Look at my bike! Look at YOUR bike. It is not as expensive as my bike! Look at my calves! Are they not hideous! How do I even find pants to cover these things!