The temperature of the herd (aka the giant mindless swarm of automobiles I traverse two times every day) was on the warm side today.
There was the woman with the white earbuds and the battered green Camry who couldn't make up her mind at the intersection of San Antonio and Charleston whether she wanted to take a left or go straight. She moved into the line for people who were going straight. She wormed her car into the line for people turning. Lather rinse repeat. I wanted to shout "Make up your damned mind!" because every time she moved into the lane for people going straight she ignored me and I had to drag my sorry self over to the right. In the end I think it was a lot like those people who always choose the wrong line in the grocery store. She wanted whatever lane would go first. When the green arrow for a left turn came up she pulled back into that lane, got honked at, yelled "fuck you!" to a guy in a black Mercedes with a Obama bumper sticker and disappeared from my life.
When I was riding over the 101 overpass (in my meager skinny hapless teeny tiny bike lane that is sometimes blocked by a ROAD WORK AHEAD sign) I was nearly crushed by a huge white bus that passed me so close it sucked the air out of my lungs. I was so traumatized by this experience that at the top of the overpass, that the guy driving the Ford Escort (must not be from around here) who attempted to yield and let me cross had to wait while I glared all around me like a senile dog that's started seeing postmen everywhere.
At some point I clear the majority of the craziness and am riding on Bryant. I get to a 4-way stop that is usually deserted. Today it's a (for this spot) mob scene of cars approaching in all directions. I stop (yes really) and the car who has arrived first goes through the intersection. I look at the other cars, one in particular, trying to remember if he was next or if it was my turn. None of the cars are moving so I head across the road. This guy in one of the cars has his window down. He is smiling at me so happily that I wonder if I know him. As I pedal by he yells out "Hi there bicyclist! Have a great weekend!"
California on a rough day is still better than any state on the east coast on a good day --- if you are a bicyclist.