|No shit, Buffy|
Vampires aside, having decent lights seems to matter less and less. I'm just glad there aren't any cows on my commute. Well, there's me.
I was passed by a peloton on my way home last night. They were dressed in matching spandex and huffed and puffed as they rode passed me. Uphill. They were surprisingly nice and all said "good evening" and "how's it going" - as if I'm really going to answer that as I'm at the end of the climb up 164th. I say they were all nice - until the last one, who wasn't wearing matchy-matchy spandex. He biked passed me so close our thighs almost touched.
|This is where our thighs met|
|The entire hill for reference|
I also managed to snap a photo of my arch nemesis. Well, only the back of him. As I'm standing behind the car in the photo, he zooms passed the both of us and parks his big ass in front of both of us who were there before him.
|Scene of the crime|
I had to make a decision as to whether to let it/him go or to tell him off once and for all. Since I'd left my nunchucks at home that day, I decided to let him go for now. Besides, I have to prepare for a great speech.