It was a "you're not a car" morning, apparently.
I was in the bike lane saw a guy behind me (we're coming up to an intersection), so I moved out of the way (towards a car lane) so he could turn right. As he passes me he yells something that I can't make out because he legitimately sounded like he had down syndrome. So I take the turn to find out and a couple second later he sees that I did so he pulls over and jumps out of his car.
He's big and black (maybe 200 pounds of muscle) and I'm 145 pounds
so he gets all up in my face (all while his coworker is telling him to get back in the car) and starts saying "b~tch, you gonna follow me too? get the f~ck out of me way", and I'm just standing there saying "sir, I was just trying to figure out what you said", and he responds with "I said f~ck you, you're not a f~cking car."
Thank you for that insight... I just said "alrighty then" and left even though he kept egging me on to fight.
Such is life...
I think the saddest part about all of this is that we were in Irvine (a fairly wealthy, master planned city in Orange County). He was pulling into a corporate building district, wearing a full suit, and driving his brand new BMW 750 Li. Maybe money really couldn't buy him happiness?