Motorists

• If you approach an intersection where you have no stop sign and you see me stopped at a stop sign, please don’t stop for me. You look ridiculous stopping. Just go on through. Believe it or not, it’s faster for the both of us, and you’ll avoid pissing off the motorists behind you.
• Dude. Seriously. When I’m going 10 mph up that hill, just go around. I know you’re there, inching behind me. I’m sorry I’m not going faster up this hill, but I avoided the main arterial; what more do you want? Just go around. I’m not going to swerve out and get hit by you.
• When you pull over and park your car, and are about to get out, do me the courtesy of looking into your mirro or over your shoulder. I’ve never been hit by an open door, but my friend Marc has. He lived, but is still very pissed off.

Bicyclists

• Come on, dude, what are you doing? Burnside is BUSY. 23rd Avenue is BUSY. You don’t need to prove your cycling manhood: get off the main drag and burn through the side streets. You’ll waste an extra minute, but you won’t piss off all the motorists (who could kill you in an instance, if given over to rage).
• And speaking of death, where’s your helmet? I know they look stupid, but they’re really the smart way to go. And they’re not that expensive — $30 at REI. By not wearing one, you’re making all cyclists look like cavalier law-breaking jerks. And we’re not.
• Oh wait, you. Over there. You have a helmet. Looks like you spent $450 on it. Sweet. And how about those spandex biker shorts? Oh, and look, you have a specialized windbreaker. And camelbak. And clipless pedals and shoes. Nice jersey. Sweet glasses. Odometer/speedometer. Leggings. Gloves. Backpack, repair kit, underwear, socks, water bottle, heart rate monitor, saddlebags. You must be going on a long trip, eh? 40, 50 miles? Oh, no? Half a mile to the store? Huh.