Submitted story: Don't tailgate!

Here is the first post from my offer to pay 25 cents for motorcycle stories. You get what you pay for, I guess. Warning: I left in the profanity but at least did edit out some racial slurs.

By "Bad Temper in Boston"

Ok, so I take my bike out today for my first real warm weather ride of the season. After a while of enjoying the weather and scenery, I decide to head to Doyle's, an Irish Pub in Newton, about 3 miles from my home. I'm hankerin for a burger and some fries.

I head up this road that leads to the street Doyle's is on. I notice that this green Saturn behind me is following closer than I would like, but not enough to set off the alarms. Not yet. I'll monitor him.

Ok, so I get to the stop sign, and this car stops behind me a bit TOO close, maybe 2 feet or so behind. I get a bit irked-I abhor cagers tailing me-and mumble to myself something like "Hey!, can you get a bit CLOSER?"

I then take a left onto Watertown St., with Doyle's maybe 50 yards up on the left. All onstreet parking is metered, and most appear taken as I look ahead, but I hope to sniff one out, and I move along, doing maybe 15-20 mph. There is traffic, so going any faster is pointless. I leave a gap of about 12 feet between me and the car in front of me, so I can look for a parking space. I come to a stop cuz of traffic.

I look in my mirror for Mr. Saturn, and....his bumper is once again absurdly close to my rear tire. I put my feet down and turn on my seat to look back at him and give him the universal shoulder shrug with elbows bent and palms facing up as if to say "Whats your problem?" and he does the same, only meaning "What? What?"

I then gesture with my hand in a pushing motion that I want him to back off a bit. He's mouthing something, being an ass. I sit back down, shake my head, and proceed to move forward. Doyle's is coming up on my left, so I again look for a spot while coasting forward. Again, I check my rearview. Mr. Saturn is RIGHT ON MY ASS!! Im talking about a FOOT! That does it.

I stop the bike right then and there, throw out the kick stand, get off the bike, and head for Mr. Saturns window. I motion for him to roll down his window. He looks to be in his late 20's. He puts it down half way. Instantly I know Im dealing with an asshole just from that. I say to him "What the fuck are you following me so close for? GET OFF MY ASS!!" I shout at him. He looks up at me and says.....are you ready for this?......he says with a serious look on his ugly mug... "You should drive faster!"

I'm incredulous. I just stare for a second. ME drive faster? On a busy, traffic snarled street? So, I gather all my oratory skills and let loose with a high-minded "FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!! YOU'RE THIS MUCH OFF MY ASS", and I accentuate my tirade by holding my palms facing in, indicating about 12 inches to better illustrate his unsafe following distance. Mr. Saturn rolls up his window, further confirming his lack of any REAL stones. But the damage is done. Im pissed real bad. First, I dont stand for anyone fucking with me in an unsafe manner, especially on my bike. Second, I had a long, stressful week at work, and I have no patience for cager assholes today!

Also, his reply just pissed me off even more. I'm the one at fault here? I finish with a beautifully executed middle finger. He responds in kind. I'm getting back on my bike and toss another "Fuck You" at him for good measure. Out of the corner on my eye, on the opposite side of the street, there's this guy in an SUV, pulling out of his parking space, with room to proceed, but he's just sitting there, half out, half in, looking at whats going on, a quizzical smile on his face. He's enjoying this scene! I couldnt help smiling a bit inside my helmet at the look on this guys face. My appetite is now ruined, and that pisses me off even MORE!! LOL.

I take off up the road (street is clear now that the cars in front have moved on, since I had the lane blocked while tearing Mr. Saturn a new asshole.) But Im not finished. I want his ass in a sling. So, I pull over and let him come up next to me at the next light. Doyle's is past me now, and fading fast in the priority department. No juicy cheeseburger for me anymore. Naturally, his windows are up. No matter. I know he can hear me.

I lean right up against his glass. I lift my visor just to make sure there is no miscommunication of my intent. I tell him to pull over and settle this mano-a-mano. He gives me the finger again, further guaranteeing his demise.

I'm yelling at him more..."Get out of the car you pussy, and we'll settle this right now!!" I'm pumping. Adrenalin is flowing. Mr. Saturn drives off ahead of me. Now, ordinarily, I would have just written the jerk off...but for some reason, I decided not to. I was incensed that he made it out to be my fault that he was recklessly following me, and putting me in danger of being rearended by this fuck.

I'm jittery as it is since my buddy died on his bike, and I dont need ANYONE fucking with me on my bike, as I've said. This is where it gets good...... I decide to follow him. Just follow him to wherever he winds up. Maybe then he'll throw em down with me, and I'll be able to take out my frustrations and missed burger on his head. And so it goes. At each stop light, I pull up alongside of him and tell him I'm going to follow his ass until he gets up the stones to face me. I told him he should be careful next time he decides to fuck with bikers, etc. He acts like Im not there, but he hears me alright. Now I just follow him. No more words from me. I follow him all the way from Newton to Kenmore Square in Boston, where Fenway Park is. About 9+ miles in all. Like I said, I wouldn't normally do this. But he acted like such a hardass before, until I got off the bike and he decided not to face me and act like a man. (Ok, so I was acting like a brat....but HE started it!! LMAO!!)

Anyhoo...I was growing tired of this, but since I had driven this far, I figured I'd give Mr. No-Stones one last shot at redeeming himself. At a red light, I pull up next to him...real close. I call him out once more. He just stares straight ahead. That's it. I cock my right arm and put my fist into his closed window. Window gives, doesn't break. Another shot. HARD. Window gives, doesn't break. NOW hes doing a speed-dial on his cell phone, and talking real fast, judging by the speed his lips are moving at. He's probably calling the cops, the spineless fuck. Or maybe his MOMMY! I take one more good punch at his glass. Still no breakeee!

My padded gloves are saving his sorry ass. "Fuck it", I think to myself...this has gone on too long, and Im tired of chasing Mr. Diapers. And I'll be damned if I'll give the asshat the satisfaction of having the cops haul me in. I'm done....I roll off to my right, and take the right turn and head back to Waltham, enjoying the beautiful weather and the scenery as I ride along Memorial Drive which parallels the famed Charles River, and I'm tooling past Harvard, the cool air breezes restoring my sanity and renewing my faith in my fellow man.