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Challengers. 2/24/2007

To this day, after more than 20 years of riding, I will never, ever understand something about car drivers. And this is in spite of the fact that I sometimes drive a car myself, when I have to. It is a given that motorcycles, any motorcycle, are far superior to any car in terms of acceleration. Leave out supercars, because they exist in a world which has very little bearing on reality. I am talking about your average Joe, in his average box on wheels, wanting to pick a bitch fight with a standard motorcycle on the road.

I really don’t understand this. Is it a matter of ego? Or as she put it, small Asian penis syndrome? What makes someone driving think that his MPV can take on a motorcycle? You’d have to be an idiot to do so.

I was riding out last night, going to meet the guys for our customary Friday night meet. An MPV was on my right, I was in the middle lane. And he was really gunning the engine, trying to get in front of me for the slip road heading off to the left. He edged in. I throttled up, not even straining the engine, to show that I wasn’t giving him an inch, and all he had to do was to slow down a little, and slip in behind me, as it would be courteous to do.

He didn’t like this, for some strange reason. I looked behind me, and he was tailgating. I looked at the number plate. It was a brand spanking new vehicle. I sighed.  I proceeded along, and this idiot started weaving in and out of traffic trying to get in front of me.  I started laughing inside my helmet.  Mr Moron in his MPV was absolutely clueless about motorcycles and their ability to get through traffic, at any speed the rider so chose.  If you really must know, that is probably the single most important reason why I choose to ride a motorcycle instead of driving a car on my daily commute.  A bike lets me laugh at traffic and traffic jams.

Mr Moron in his MPV must have really been raging for some reason.  Maybe his wife didn’t give him a blowjob after dinner.  Or maybe she did.  I really didn’t care.  He managed to come alongside me on the left.  He was going to start edging me out again, to try and get in front of me.  I looked at him.  I put my left hand on my knee.  I gunned the throttle several times, egging him on.  I twisted the throttle, let the front wheel lift, and waved bye-bye.