I try to swallow this one since I don't crash racing and it is hard to take when I crash on my commute. I was at the Westside bike path in NYC, near the Chelsa Piers, around 9:30 pm. I was riding home. I saw this f--king golfer crossing the bike path not looking for traffic. I yelled out "heads up!" I think golfers have a slower reaction time. He didn't even look to his right, that was where I was coming, until I was 20 feet away. I knew this dumbf--k won't yield and so I veered to my left to go around him. As stupid the stupid does, he walked back. That was it. I ram right into him at 18 mph. His golf bag took the impact and I was stopped dead. I fell to my left and scraped my knees and dented (slight one and some scratches) my Dura Ace 10 speed shifters, the top part. I was so pissed I just stood there. I didn't want to talk to this dumbf--k. Checking over my bike and realized nothing was broken or scratched up. He tired to help me up. Anyway, he was walking away and telling me I was ignoring the crosswalk. I told this d--k he wasn't looking where he was going and I called him a dumbass golfer.
On my way to the 3rd Ave and Union street some inner city kid telling me to slow down because she needed to talk to me, around 9:45pm now. I was like WTF and get away from me. I just kept a good distance from her in case she and her accomplices trying to pull something on me like knocking me off the bike and stealing my bike.