The sky yesterday was pewter gray in places, lighter in others. The roads were wet (which isn't a big deal for someone who has fenders) and it was raining lightly at times. For someone who was born and bred in Massachusetts none of this is worth writing about. The weather in Massachusetts is disgusting (cue people in denial from Massachusetts writing to say the weather is absolutely fucking wonderful they love humidity and sleet and how do I feel about dying in an earthquake anyway) so if you want to do anything outside you have to get good at dealing with a little rain or a little cold. Here in California it is never very cold (cue the Californians claiming frostbite) and so biking in all weather is easy.
Once at work after a pleasantly fast ride in I collect my nice hot delicious breakfast of steel cut oats (thanks work, I love you too) and am placidly trotting towards my desk when a woman stops me. I don't even know her.
She asks: "Did you bike today?"
I look down at my bike shoes and nod, "yes, I did."
"What do you do when it rains?"
"I get wet I guess."
"You bike even when it rains?"
"Aren't you afraid of someone skidding into you and killing you?"
What I think about saying: "If that "someone" is you, and you "skid" into me because the roads are damp and I am on my bike, I, or my heirs will sue you for every penny you have ever earned, or will ever earn. And when we finish with that we'll sue all your relatives. When we're done you'll be too poor to own a car."
What I actually say: "I am always mindful of dumbass drivers."
This doesn't shut her up. In fact she looks happy. "It's so very dangerous!" she offers joyfully with a thin skin of sympathy on top.
What I think about saying: "Have you visited a cardiac ward? Seen all the whales lying on their backs struggling to breathe through the agony of having had their chests cut open? I'd rather be hit by a car."
What I say: "Have a nice day."