Crotch Rocketeer

In his rear view mirror, Joe could see the crotch rocket rider tail gating him, weaving back and forth within inches of the metal bike rack that protruded from the back of Joe’s Prius.

What an asshat, Joe thought.

He envisioned slamming on his brakes and seeing the motorcyclist get impaled on one of the steel support bracket tubes of the bike rack. Instead, he did what he normally did with arrogant douchebag drivers who got too close to his rear bumper…he slowed down significantly.

Through the half open windows of his Prius, Joe could hear the crotch rocketeer revving the bike’s engine in fury. Joe smiled. 

“Well, you shouldn't be such a douche," Joe said softly, though there was no way the rider could hear him over the din of his bike's engine.

They were approaching an intersection where Joe had to make a right turn. Joe let his foot off the accelerator and let the car coast slowly to a stop at the red light, hitting the brakes only lightly, and arbitrarily, to keep the motorcyclist on edge. He could hear the motorcyclist yelling something unintelligibly.

Joe made his right turn onto the two lane cross street. The motorcyclist immediately veered left and passed Joe at high speed in the other lane, the motor bike's engine screaming, but not before Joe gave the rider a send off with a one-finger salute.

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