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	<title>uncapitalized &#187; Bicycling</title>
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	<description>I will not be pigeonholed</description>
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		<title>Saving it for the other guy</title>
		<link>http://shiranpasternak.com/blog/2008/11/saving-it-for-the-other-guy/</link>
		<comments>http://shiranpasternak.com/blog/2008/11/saving-it-for-the-other-guy/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:02:56 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Shiran</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Bicycling]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[cycling]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[On my return this morning from a nice weekend autumn ride, I had a strange incident. Less than 3 miles from my home, riding north on Broadway, I caught up to a cyclist. Without sprinting, I passed by him. After about 10 seconds he zoomed right past me and yelled something.

I was listening to my [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>On my return this morning from a nice weekend autumn ride, I had a strange incident. Less than 3 miles from my home, riding north on Broadway, I caught up to a cyclist. Without sprinting, I passed by him. After about 10 seconds he zoomed right past me and yelled something.</p>
<p><span id="more-61"></span></p>
<p>I was listening to my iPod so I didn&#8217;t quite catch what he said, but he shook his head after pulling ahead of me. Whatever. I made nothing of it, and just assumed he was pissed at something else, like one of the gazillion town cars in this part of town.</p>
<p>At the next red light I pulled right next to him and turned off the iPod. I wanted to extend some courtesy to a fellow rider, ask him about his ride. He just gave me a cold stare.</p>
<p>I asked him, &#8220;What&#8217;s up?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Sometimes you gotta save it for the other guy,&#8221; he retorted.</p>
<p>Finally grokking that he&#8217;s completely pissed at me and suspecting it had something to do with me passing him in the first place, I asked, &#8220;Why, what happened?&#8221;</p>
<p>Without letting me finish the question, he replies in an elevated voice, &#8220;You know what happened!&#8221; and then rides up 15 feet, ending our exchange.</p>
<p>Apparently, he got really mad at me and no longer wished to continue our acquaintance. I wanted to plead, to try to salvage what little is left of our shared experience, see if we have a chance. But I knew the wound is fresh, and this was not the right time.</p>
<p>Despite his arguing that I know what I did, I don&#8217;t. But I nevertheless felt remorseful for whatever it is that I might have done. I kept on his wheel for the next half-mile or so, giving him enough space to think things over, maybe reconsider his decision. But then I had to peel off. And he continued on his angry way.</p>
<p>And now I&#8217;m left, <a title="Did you just touch my butt? — uncapitalized" href="http://shiranpasternak.com/blog/2008/08/did-you-just-pat-my-butt/">once again</a>, rehashing my actions, his reactions, and how things could have been different. Should I have not passed him? Should I have used different words? Should I have tried harder to win him back? Really, he needs to know that I&#8217;m a nice guy and a courteous cyclist. In this world of lawlessness and town cars, I&#8217;m on his side. I&#8217;m a team player. I <em>would</em> save it for the other guy, if given a chance. I just don&#8217;t know what <em>it</em> is, or who the other guy is.</p>
<p>And so, I&#8217;d like to apologize to anonymous cyclists and other guys I may have passed and pissed, both in the past and in the future. And if you&#8217;re the guy from this morning, can we at least still be friends?</p>
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