You're In California. Be Nice.

I saw the subject line of this post in a cafe in Morro Bay, California.  You're In California.  Be Nice."

So a few shout-outs for the nice Californians.  And one to a not-so-nice wannabe hipster.

To the lady in the green sedan at the Bryant Street traffic circle who was nearly clipped by the Denali that ran the two stop signs.  We exchanged a look.  We both felt lucky to be alive.  Then you smiled at me and waved that I should go in front of you.  That was super nice.  I hope the rest of your commute was peaceful.

To the lady driving the ginormous Lincoln Navigator who must have realized that riding by me on that narrow street would be like having a 16 wheeler go by.  You gave me enough room and drove kindof slowly.  Because of that you missed the light.  Which should have been ok because you wanted to turn right.  Yet you couldn't turn right because that dirt bag bicyclist somehow managed to take up so much space that you couldn't go around.  You didn't complain, you just waited.  Classy.

To that dirtbag bicyclist.  Have a heart.  Would it kill you to move over a little so that the car hoping to turn right onto a deserted road can do that?  Also that pink plastic kiddy basket you stuck onto the front of your bicycle does not make you look like a hipster.  It makes you look like a pedophile.