Yup, that's exactly what some young chicana yelled at me yesterday as I was making my regular ride home from work.
Alright, if someone screams that at me and I'm on Virginia Beach Boulevard or Tidewater Drive, I'd probably be in agreement that yes, the sidewalk would be safer.
Unfortunately for Miss Hot Stuff, I'd had a pretty frustrating day at work, and as she rode away laughing in the passenger seat of a late-model gray Toyota sedan, I decided to chase her down.
I shifted up and took off after the obscenity-spewing and caught up with her on 21st Street.
"Get on the f**kin' sidewalk!!!" I screamed at her when I caught up with them at the next stoplight. I kept pace as her friend pulled away, and followed them down the street to the nail salon at the shopping plaza. When they got out of the car, I stared down Miss Hot Stuff and told her again, "Get on the f**kin' sidewalk!!!"
"What the f**k is your problem?" she asked me in her best Jerry Springer,
"You! Why are you hanging out your window screaming at me?"
"Because you should be on the sidewalk! That's where bikes belong!"
"You're wrong! It's illegal to ride on the sidewalk in Norfolk! I'm supposed to be on the road!"
"Get your nerdy ass off the road!"
"Honey, I've got the same rights to be on the road as any car!"
"Well you'd better watch out, 'cause we'll run you down!"
"Fine! My lawyer is bigger than yours, and I will sue your ass!"
"Oh, bring it on! I ain't afraid of your lawyer!"
We stared each other down outside the nail salon. She accused me of being a stalker, while I just kept my headlamp pointed at her eyes. After a few more minutes of dialog worthy of Judge Judy, Miss Hot Stuff headed into the nail salon, and I headed home.
Maybe I could've handled it better, but I think I made my point.