Big Fucking Truck, ftw

Dear owner of the big fucking truck that hit me a year ago,

The most (only) considerate thing you did after hitting me with your truck when I was riding to work in the bike lane was asking me if I was alright. Other than that you were a great, big horse's ass! You didn't even bother getting off your cell phone to get out of the truck and check on me and my bike. Other than a sharp pain in my hip and a fucked-up real wheel, I was fine. I was picking up my cell phone from the street, ready to ride away. Then, you said it...

"Did you know you were going the wrong way?!"

I was pissed off, not willing to engage you, but you repeated yourself, making sure that I heard you. Finally, I whipped my head around and yelled back, "Did you know you're supposed to look BOTH WAYS before pulling onto the street?!"

You continued to curse and accuse as I rode away, internally whimpering from the pain in my hip.

Yes, in fact, I did know I was riding the wrong way down the bike lane. 1) I would have to cross the same road twice to get to work, since home and work are on the same side of the road. 2) I don't like the fact that riding the right way would put assholes like coming up from behind me, leaving me vulnerable to flying full beer bottles and prankster-passengers with open car doors.

Shortly, sir, I wanted to say that you were a big, burly guy in a huge, honking truck, and I was tee-tiny little female on a beach cruiser. Is that a concept you're inattentive mind can understand? You hurt me. So, I have to say this:

"STICK IT UP YOUR OBSCENELY, OVER-COMPENSATORY HUGE TAILPIPE!"

Completely sincerely,
Ella Mayo