...when young men, seemingly happy that the snow is gone, ride around in cars with the windows down, proudly calling out to random road users that the melted snow has revealed the sidewalk!
Honey? Can you go pick up a few groceries for us?
You mean you're sending me out to ride my bike? Ok!
We also need gas for the mower. Ok!
There I was pulling in to the gas station loaded with groceries, smiling as I imagined that once I added 1.5 gallons of gasoline to my collection of vinegar, baking soda and oreos that I'd be a very big two wheeled disaster in waiting.
My well humored stupor shattered. Deep from within the rolling box of glass and steel came the prideful arrogance of a man who finally and successfully could name the 4ft wide strip of concrete that often parallels roadways.
SIDEWALK! Right there! Said the voice through his cagehole.
As I came to a stop I invited the gentleman over for a polite conversation. He wasn't interested, however he did switch his concern from sidewalks to my apparent intent to pump gas.
You can't get gas, you're on a bicycle!
...or maybe you're an idiot.
This is one of those times it would be most excellent to engage someone in the tired argument that people who ride bicycles don't pay gas taxes.