Irony

Irony

Yeah, its ironic.

On the bike beneath leaden (hell, rainy) skies, sitting at a stop light, waiting for the oncoming left-turn lane traffic to get their red so I’ll get my green.

A look up into the light-shield overhead. Yeah, its yellow. They’ll be stopping soon.

A look to the oncoming lane. Here comes an FUV, racing along like a barrel of gluttons, flying to make his hard left turn on slick pavement.

Light: Bing

Sizzlesizzlesizzle go his tires as he slides through on the one-second-old red, crossing across my nose and my right-of-way.

And the irony?

The Lynx transport company logo on the side.

This is our bus company, the one with busses conveniently running once an hour, the bus line with only rack space for only two bikes, the bus line who removed routes while building some Taj Mahal of a terminal downtown.

So now one of their executurds is running reds in the rain.

Its called ROUTE 102, you shitweasle. Why aren’t you riding that bus?