Bike Blog: Ugliness and Avoidance

I could have just let him go but my instinct is to do what I can to issue consequence to obnoxious and dangerous behavior. Freezing cold it was, the coldest day so far, 15 degrees, 5 with wind that worked against progress toward being prompt to work. My visibility was reduced as I had the enormous red scarf, the first knitting project of Anna and last year's warmest gift from her to me, wrapped around my face several times so as to limit head mobility. And slowly I pass across the street at a four way stop but a white sedan with government plates does not like that I have gotten in his way and he refuses to arrest his acceleration. So close now to the destination I am riding tentatively as my toes are frozen, I can not feel them, but he hits the back of my bicycle, the back tire, the most expensive and delicate part on the bicycle, and I rush to his window, gratified to see he is pulled over. An older man with white hair and glasses, a gray face with no emotion except a slowness to comprehend the situation, I insist he exit the car and he does after babbling some things to me behind glass. I am very angry, the animated kind when I am another me behind my eyes watching as I articulate rather elegantly how easily he could have hurt me. I do not respect angry people who though wronged do not act rationally with an eye toward productive enlightenment. But still I can not help but to say belittling words to attack him as I feel I have been, but am ashamed immediately. I insist he call the police and he does slowly on his cell phone while asking me why I am swearing at him, my intent is to shame him into being more careful. Again I check my wheel by spinning and surprisingly it is fine, I am almost reluctant to believe this and know there is no need for the police because money need not exchange hands. But I say nothing but that no I do not need an ambulance when the question is relayed from the operator- I am not hurt, I say, just pissed. He is still on his phone, standing amongst the frozen and dirty piled-up snow at the corner, as I walk my bike away without notifying him. I am within sight of my job and unhappy with the ugliness I feel responsible for but as I look back he has put on a white hardhat which he has retrieved from his government sedan in order to benefit from an implied interconnection to the officer who may or may not actually arrive, both servants are they of municipality, versus I who with my karate bandana and army-style helmet and studio headphones which are strapped over my face look like some kind of lunatic participant of a polar rugby team. I assure myself that since though this man did I did not provide my name or other relevant information I can safely disappear into the alcove which protects us from the wind as we wait to be buzzed into our jobs.