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Cyclists Versus Motorists

Joe B

Came here to study from comedy's best in order to bring some cred back to my hometown of Cleveland (Yes, I know I have my work cut out for me)


Motorists win.

There. I spoiled the ending. In the tale of cyclists versus motorists, motorists will always win. There is no David of the Cyclists, nor will the underdogs of the supposedly shared road rise from the cliched ashes to surprisingly overtake the evil motorists in some Hollywood film.

Show me the obituary that says, "Was hit by cyclists while driving." The motorists will always win, which is why I will never understand why a motorists would bother wasting the energy it takes to honk at a cyclists and even shout.

Honking wastes energy! Honking gets the adrenaline pumping. Punching the horn is easily a metaphor for punching the object of your anger in the face. So in a way I, innocently on my bike on a beautiful Chicago, summer morning, got punched in the face.


Because a UPS truck had to pull over on the bike lane, since Chicago's side streets are more crowded than an Apple store before the unveiling of the next pointless phone device that does the same thing as the last one (for all I know - or care- anyway).

In order to avoid plummeting myself into the back of the UPS truck, signing myself up to get sent to God knows where, I gingerly pedaled my away around the truck. Apparently that wasn't cool for the dude behind me, presumably on his way to a very important meeting.

Honk! Honk! (Inaudible gibberish)

Although inaudible, I figured the gibberish wasn't, "Nice bike!" or "Golly Stranger! Great day we're having!"

After he zipped by me, I felt compelled to catch up with him at the next light.

Side note: Chicagoans are always in a hurry to get to the next red light. I don't get it. They speed and hammer on their breaks, no doubt wasting more gas in the process if they'd just obey the damn speed limit.

As I catch up to him, I slow down to say in a moderately friendly tone, "Congratulations! You beat me to the red light!" as I glided to the front of the cars waiting at the light.

"You're not a car!" he shrieked back.
"Really? I was wondering where my other two wheels and iron exterior went!" I joked back.

Okay, I didn't actually shout the last bit back, but I thought of it immediately afterward and wished I said it. So in this version of the tale, I damn well said it.

This all brings me to my larger point of motorists always ultimately winning the eternal struggle of cyclists versus motorists. (In reality, it shouldn't be "versus" since I've never met a cyclist looking to run over a car). If motorists know they will always win control of the road, why the shouting? Maybe it is really annoying to drive alongside a cyclist. I wouldn't know, since I'm environmentally friendly and don't typically drive a car, he says with his pompous nose held high.

Bottom line, motorists have little reason to be pissed over a few guys/girls riding their bikes on the street. They're going to get to wherever they're going faster, and no cyclist is going to run them over.

Although... I'm willing to make an exception to the latter observation if I ever come across Mr. "You're not a car!" again.

Joe Baur is the writer/creator of CHOSA Film, Mildly Relevant News, and co-creator of Throw!Kick!Punch!

You can follow Joe B at

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