Greetings, my fellow port swillers!
Making his way home this evening, ol’ Robbo had his first encounter of the season with the dreaded Dee Cee bike-cab fleet.
I have ranted often here about the arrogance and lawlessness of the cyclists who plague the streets of Your Nation’s Capital, but these bike-cab wallahs are in a class of their own.
Singleton cyclists zing in and out of traffic, hog lanes and obey signs and signals only if they feel like it, but at least they (usually) keep moving at some speed (although I still hate them).
These taxi folks, on the other hand, represent a cadre of rolling roadblocks, taking up entire lanes in the middle of rush hour, plodding along at a stately 5 mph and causing a whole series of mind-boggling jams and mergers as commuters try to get clear of them. (Insider baseball here: This evening’s mark was on Constitution heading west and cut straight across the turn off to Virginia just after I managed to get round him. You can imagine the results.)
I make a point of glaring as I work my way around these people, but I’m afraid the effect is lost, given that I usually wear sunglasses while driving.