Not like I was going fast. not like he was. Off a side street, with another car keeping him from scooting up and ripping around to make a right. But since he was over far enough that there was no room between him and the sidewalk on the right, I tried coming around him (at walking pace) on the left to cut between and make it to the sidewalk.
yeahnotsomuch.
best part was after picking myself up off the ground and glaring at him, he opened his window and yelled at ME.
Then he decided to get out of his car and make something of it, but he turned out to be just another pussy...
...in a VW Jetta...
...who thinks he has right of way at all times...
...and got pissed at me for "hitting his car with my bicycle."
Yeah, buddy. it's my fault your hood and front fender got dented and scratched up by my bicycle.
I was feeling a little maudlin, a little sentimental about bailing on this piece of shit city after seven years. I guess I owe it to the choad for reinforcing my enthusiasm to GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS PLACE.
LA: where people run you over and then try to get into fistfights with you for the damage you did to their car