Dear Idiot Motorcyclist…

Thanks for nearly killing both me and yourself today… After the break…

Dear Idiot Motorcyclist…

Not all of us who partake in the (sadly) necessary pastime of driving motorized vehicles are aspiring racers, be it NASCAR, Indy or any other motoring organization. I drive a motorized vehicle because, unfortunately, I live in an area where mass transit is not a practicality.

Until the day that Google, Apple or some other multi-national conglomerate decides to ram driverless vehicles down our gullets or up some NC-17 rated orifice of our body, we are stuck with driving these motorized vehicles ourselves. That factoid means that we should, out of sheer respect for the dignity of human life, endear ourselves to at least spitting in the direction of following the legal rules of the road.

Which you did not do today. At all.

You passed me on the road… Over a double-yellow line… While roaring up a hill that you couldn’t see over.

And nearly missed a garbage truck by a few seconds coming the other way.

Brilliant.

We’ve had two fatal motorcycle accidents in our area recently. They were both caused by impatient motorcyclists. I was almost a witness to a third such incident. I’m not privileged in the slightest over you giving me that opportunity.

I wasn’t driving excessively slow or even slow at all. I was driving the speed limit. Especially since it was going up a hill. That you can’t see over. On a backroad with significant turns.

Wearing a motorcycle helmet helps on most occasions if the collision is fairly minor. The helmet cushions the impact that your head would experience to a certain degree.

It would not have helped much slamming into the front of that garbage truck. Or at all.

You could have died today, dear sir. That’s not an understatement. Had that garbage truck been a little bit faster to the top of the hill, you might have died. There definitely would have been a collision and it would have been between you and that garbage truck.

I sincerely hope that you change your driving habits, dear idiot motorcyclist. Not for your sake. Your internal organs would probably save the life of some hapless soul who desperately needs them. I’m writing about the witnesses who would have to live with the fact that they bore witness to your death, either by seeing you fly over their vehicles or into their vehicle as a result of your stupidity and disregard for traffic safety and all of the emotional turmoil that would go with it.

Good riddance to you, sir, and I hope never to have to deal with you ever again.

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