BY RICHARD STURGEON
President
Jemez Riders Riding Club
It’s that time of year. The leaves are changing and the air is crisp. Motorcycle riders are happy to be alive as we wipe the morning dew off our motorcycle seats…and cagers are ecstatic as they race to their favorite coffee house to order a pumpkin spice latte with a half shot of soy sauce and sugar free whip cream or whatever it is they add to their java this time of year.
Speaking of latte drinking cagers, one of them almost ran me off the road this morning. Not huge news in itself, as most riders could tell such tales almost every day. However, this morning’s anti-hero not only began creeping into my lane, but did it while taking a big sip out of their (major coffee house corporation not to be named) cup. And before I continue, I’d just like to add that customers of this particular coffee house litter more than any other drive-through business that I’ve seen. Why is that? Are their hands shaking so badly from their triple shots of caffeine that when they finish, the cup simply jiggles out of their hand and through the window? I don’t think so. I think they (not all of them, of course) are coffee-breath-jittering-jerks who think nothing of throwing trash out of their vehicles. I can’t stand litterers.
I had a co-worker in Tennessee, interesting guy. He was one of those long haired hippies from the 60s that carried his own poop out of the mountains anytime he went camping. On the flip side, he had no problem throwing his banana peels out of the truck window on the way to or from those camping trips. I once suggested he not litter and he yelled at me. Ever been yelled at by a crazy-eyed, long haired hippie who smelled like peppermint incense and bananas? He said “Banana peels are organic man, Mother Earth will decompose and utilize it,…man.” I told him his poop was also organic and he just stared at me for 10 minutes without saying anything. It was horrifying. To this day I can’t eat bananas or look at people carrying their poop without thinking about him.
Where was I? Okay, so the car this morning starts making its way into my lane, so I rev my engine. I was on my Harley and revving the engine actually does a better job of getting drivers attention than using my Road Runner-sounding beep-beep horn. I looked over at the driver and this dummy isn’t paying attention to anything but that coffee. They overtake my lane and now I’m in that skinny bike path for a second or two. I slowed down and was able to get back in my lane.
It’s funny when something like this happens and you tell anyone because they instantly chime in with what they would have done. “I’d have pulled them over and given them a piece of my mind!” “I’d have pulled up beside them and punched their driver’s side mirror off.” “I’d have followed them to the Lab and reported that dangerous coffee drinking hooligan to their boss.”
What I decided to do was go into work. I know the vehicle and if I see it again, I’ll stay away from them as much as I can. Do you know why? Because I’m an adult. I could have tried to pull them over and gotten into a punch-up. Sure. But they were all hopped up on caffeine and soy sauce, I don’t think it would have been a fair fight. I’m not pretending to be an angel. Those that know me, those that ride with me…they know I’m not. But unless someone purposefully puts your life in danger, you have to be mature enough to let it go. It’s hard sometimes but seriously, let it go and be happy you survived an encounter with one of these seasonal pumpkin heads.
(This was an unpaid model filling in for me. This isn’t me.)