“Wassup, Killah?” and Other Random $hit People Say to Me on My Bicycle

Last night I was putting in some late night miles — 16.5 to be exact — to beat the heat and keep my stats up, you know, like I do. I approached a red light and came to a stop. Here’s what I wrote in my Strava ride summary: “Wassup, Killah?” Said the man at the bus stop, a descendant of Africa, pleasantly and with no malice, to the dude on the bicycle who is of the Caucasian persuasion. “I’m good, thanks. How ’bout you?” Also good. They then discussed how the weather wasn’t as hot as last night. The light changed, adieus were bid, and the dude rode on, an otherwise lackluster day made. “Huh, I guess I am kinda a killah on a bike!” He pedaled a little harder, his mph a bit faster. So yeah, that happened.

See this ride in Strava. Copyright Strava

Despite the ominous language, this turned out to be a pleasant exchange. Other interactions have not gone as well. Twice in two years I heard this:

“I’m gonna knock yo’ bitch ass offa that bike!”

two random dudes

In one case, a man in a car didn’t like that I was passing him and held him up for like 2 seconds. I looped back and yelled, “Hey, come try it, bro!” Not my best moment, but he didn’t, so that was good. The other occasion was when I passed a guy in a parking lot, and to avoid a speed bump I guess I got too close for his comfort. I didn’t stop to chat but wanted to say, “Hey, my bad, I didn’t know you owned this parking lot.” Usually it’s not a good idea to engage with people having a bad day. They tend to want to share that badness, which is no bueno.

Many conflicts between bicycles and cars, at least here in Austin, Texas, USA where I am, are when people are turning in their car and waiting for me to pass. They are correct to do so, because whoever gets there first and has the light has the right of way. But people are impatient, or late because they didn’t leave early enough and there’s traffic, even in corona times. So often they won’t say anything especially with the AC and tunes blasting and the windows up. But I can see their lips moving, the angry look on their faces, or their minds working, and it’s as good as them yelling, “Hey you, hurry the f@ck up! I got somewhere to be!” My answer, if I had the chance, would be this: “Yeah, so what? And I don’t?”

Sometimes people do get the chance to say something while they’re pulled up along side me, and it’s nice. Usually they refer to Sophie the Fairdale Weekender Archer’s color, and go, “That’s a pretty bike!” I reply, “Thanks, just like me.” That always elicits a chuckle. But more often than not it’s pedestrians or other cyclists who say that. If there’s time and it’s another biker, they’ll ask where I’m headed, where I got the bike, or other harmless chit-chat.

On occasion, I’ll be the one who says random stuff. I’ll never forget the time I was riding behind a woman with a rear rack and some panniers hanging off of it. They looked nice and I was legitimately interested in the cost, weight, rainproof factor, etc. I pulled up alongside her as there was no traffic, trying to judge by her expression if she could take a joke. She did, so said I, “Hi, I just wanted to say that you’ve got a nice rack!” She looked surprised but laughed. I was embarrassed I actually went through with it so instantly followed up with “…there on your bike, the rack, it looks nice.” And so we did talk about where she got it, the price, etc. As pick up lines go, it flopped, and a few other times I considered it but just asked.

“Because even the smallest of words can be the ones to hurt you, or save you.”

― Natsuki Takaya

Rarely I’ll get the much-appreciated, “Great job!” or “You can do it!”, accompanied with a thumbs-up and a smile. Those are great, especially while going up a hill. I’ll grimace and try to wave back or gut out a “Thanks.” I remember one time in particular, a brunette woman in a white car, like an Audi or BMW. She was going the other way, and I think may have had to slow down. I recall the section of the street where it was, too. It was not a terribly steep hill, but I’d just been up and down several rises in a row, so I probably looked particularly hot and bothered. She said her words, I looked up and we locked eyes. And I just felt uplifted, that I wasn’t alone, and this random stranger literally helped me, just with two words and a kind gaze.

So the next time you’re out driving your car, or sitting at a bus stop, and see someone on a bicycle, say something nice. Call them “killah” or say “you can do it!”. You never know how much you’ll make their day. And whether you’re on a bicycle, running, rowing, using a walker, or in a wheelchair, who can’t use a little encouragement to make their day a little brighter?

“Watch your thoughts, they become your words; watch your words, they become your actions; watch your actions, they become your habits; watch your habits, they become your character; watch your character, it becomes your destiny.”

― Lao Tzu

Thank you for visiting me on WordPress or at https://ADudeAbikes.com.  Feel free to add your Likes and Comments and to Follow the blog through WordPress if you have it, or by email.  Contact me on the About page with any questions.  Please feel free to Re-blog and Share as long as you give credit and the permalink to this post.

© 2020 A Dude Abikes. All rights reserved.

16 thoughts on ““Wassup, Killah?” and Other Random $hit People Say to Me on My Bicycle

  1. I should probably be more vocal on the bike — but I generally avoid chit-chat for any reason. Just selfish I guess. Lately I’m using the covid-19 excuse. Talking loudly is sharing even more droplet and aerosols with those around me. Silence is safer (for now).

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Great post, Dude. I get the wide variety of comments too on my daily commute. There’s the anonymity of the passing car emboldening the teen to shout something unintelligible. But then there is the redemption of them quickly rolling up their window as you pull up to them at the next stoplight. Even when we are tempted to strike back, I know I am guilty of some pretty stupid behavior, I am going to keep your story in mind. Thanks!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, Special K! Once someone there something that hit my helmet. I caught them a mile later at the light. They wouldn’t look at me. I know they hear my expletive filled tirade through the window though and we’re suitably chastened. Little ahits!

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I live four houses from the local MUP, which makes me a familiar person to many. I sometimes initiate small talk with “nice bike” to kids, or “great day to be on a bike” to others. I do find however that riders in full kits, just give me a look if I wave or acknowledge them. I’m pretty sure it’s because I don’t wear a helmet.

    The crazy thing is that those in carbon or aluminum bikes with matching kits, helmet and shoes, screaming along at 14 MPH, are the worse.

    The most rewarding is when the Lance want to be riders chase me down just to pass. It’s the Pavlov’s dog syndrome. When they see a bike, they have to catch it. When they do pass, they are often burnt out from the chase. I like to get on their tail and follow just a little to closely behind, matching their speed. (Sometimes whistling). It’s fun. he he.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I’m that guy in the kit. I’m usually too out of breath to talk. And I do have the urge to pass anything I can. Catching and whistling would be awesome — even I would laugh.

      Liked by 1 person

    2. I liked your comments. But what’s a MUP? Kit wearers aren’t all the same, but they may tend to be better riders but that doesn’t make them better people. Would a simple ” On your left” kill them? I can imagen you tailgating, it’s funny!


    1. I dont k ow that band or song, but it sounds like you thought it was an ok post, so I’ll take it. Thanks. And now when I’m debating using a curse word I think, WWMD? A.d, I should just use it and… Be Sorry Less.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. It’s perfect for this. And your writing is way more than okay.
        Marco might say something he shouldn’t, although I like to think I’ve gotten softer around the edges in my advanced age. I hope so anyway.

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.