One of my favorite magazines both to write for and about, GOOD, had a party last weekend here in NY. The theme was greenmarket gourmet! All the vendors were so cute and of course gave us many, many samples.

It was right on the East River and although it was oppressively moist, a nice breeze kicked up as the sun went down. To get there, I rode a bike over the Williamsburg Bridge for the first time.

Never before have I been so thrilled with the spread at a party. Sugar snap peas! Strawberries! Sausage! Heirlooms you could just pick up and eat like an apple! Honey lavender gin cocktails!

Come to think of it, I have been drinking a lot of gin this summer. Normally I would not touch the stuff. But there have been so many interesting drinks presented to me that include gin. I believe gin is in!

I’m pedaling down Yucca, a street I chose specifically because it’s so wide I practically have a lane to myself. Just past the Capitol Records building I roll by a black Ford Explorer with a THRASHER sticker over 30% of the rear windshield. The passenger side window squeaks down.

“Get out of the way!”

I look quickly right to make sure I’m not about to be taken out by a loose Dumpster rolling out of the 7-Eleven parking lot. Surely they can’t be talking to me as I’m a good half-lane away from—

“Get the fuck out of the road!”

I know this is directed at me because at this point I’m exactly even with the Explorer. Three guys. And what is that they’re listening to…311?

“You know that’s a bike, right?”

I did indeed.

I thought hard about what to say back to them. I really did. I even did a quick mental inventory of my backpack to see what I might be able to lob at their car. But by the time I decided it would be relatively easy to pop the lid off my ceramic water bottle and douse them (or toss the whole thing and try to crack their windshield), it didn’t really matter.

You see, they were stuck in traffic, and I had already made the next light.