As I fly by and buzz the elbows of my favorite athlete, I take note where they are in the bike lane. It looks as though the lane is about 5 feet wide. Not that it matters though, it could be 10 feet wide and the grape smugglers won't stay in it.
They don't like to ride "in" the bike lane, they prefer to ride "on" the bike lane line.
They slolem the line like they're failing a field sobriety test for CHP.
I drive a nice big car and on narrow roads I'm forced to veer into oncoming traffic and play chicken so I don't knick their elf shoes.
Nah. That in no way is a road hazzard.
Hey, no problem my friends. Keep doing what your doing. Keep cooking those hemroids every saturday morning with your 150 mile slolem through our city streets.
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