The Bakery: Why Do You Hate My Vagina?

Dear Mr. Motorist,

Our paths crossed yesterday, almost literally, as I was biking home. You were driving a big old truck with an oversized, tarped load in the back. I was riding my road bike. I shoulder-checked for traffic, signaled, and moved out into the lane to ride about twenty feet and avoid a grate through a narrow section before yielding the road back to motorists. You sped up beside me and passed me. In doing so, with your big truck and overhanging load, you squeezed me to the side, forcing me to hit the grate. In all fairness, it was my choice; I chose to hit it over being hit by you.

I wasn’t prepared to hit the grate and when I did I was pitched forward onto my top tube, causing an unfortunate collision between my vagina and my bike. I can only imagine that causing me to box myself was your sole intention; clearly you could not have been so absent-minded or ignorant while driving that you would accidentally cause bodily harm to a cyclist.