I was driving along River Road one evening last week when I rolled to a stop at an intersection where a bicycle was waiting for the light to change. I was in the middle of my lane — the rightmost through lane — and the bicycle was partway into the lane. There was plenty of room to its right, in an unoccupied right-turn-only lane.
The bicyclist started pounding on my window and screaming that I had come closer to him than permitted by law. I was taken aback by his fury, but didn’t engage. Nonetheless, his message had sunk in and, as I approached the next intersection, I stayed as far left as I could , with my tires just about touching the dotted white line. The bicyclist had also moved leftward, well into the lane. As I stopped, he threw his bike against my car and started screaming that I had hit him.
I should have stayed put, but I have always had a hard time accepting accusations of things I haven’t done. So I opened the door and started screaming for the guy to get away from my car. He came toward me, so I tried to push him away. He threw me onto the hood of my car and then onto the pavement. Now he was screaming that I had assaulted him.
[Continue reading Keith Berner’s post at Left-Hand View.]