Bicycle Race

It was a great day for a bike ride through the neighborhood. I slowly climbed soft hills on the quiet back roads connecting Scarsdale and White Plains. I sailed down them, enjoying the breeze. The only sound on the deserted suburban streets was the chirping of birds. The only vehicles that passed me were construction vans (while the soccer moms themselves may rest during this time of day, their plumbers, carpenters, landscapers and gardeners clearly don't). After swinging by the pool I used to go to as a kid, I decided to bike home on the parkway...

Turns out, you're not allowed to bike on the parkway.

It was an honest mistake - that little shoulder on the side of the road looks like a bike lane! And it wasn't like I was getting in anyone's way. Usually when you do something wrong, every single driver on the road feels the need to honk at you, and you figure it out pretty quick. But no one was bothering me, so I assumed it was ok.

I knew it wasn't when I heard a siren go off, and a voice booming over a megaphone (honestly, it was cranked up so high you'd think I was on the set of some military action movie) "GET. OFF. THE. ROAD."

I got off the road. I dragged my bike onto the grass lining the side of the highway and turned around. It wasn't a cop, but rather some sort of emergency truck with the acronym H.E.L.P. emblazoned on it. How I.R.O.N.I.C. Then the voice spoke again.

"GET OFF THE ROAD"

I gestured with my arms to indicate that the turf upon which I was standing was not, in fact, the road. My captor rolled down his window and shouted his intruction.

"Get off the parkway at the next exit."

I told him I would walk my bike there over the grass if that was ok. He paused. "I'm giving you permission."

So, slowly, I began to walk my bike over the grass. He rolled along slowly behind me (blocking up the parkway in the process, I might add).

I didn't know what was going to happen. I knew that this guy clearly only had two things - a loud megaphone, and a deep-rooted desire to be a cop, which he wasn't. I didn't think he had the authority to punish me in any way, but nonetheless I was already planning my negotiation strategy.

At one point the grass shoulder ended, and the path dipped behind a row of trees and bushes. I indicated that I was going to take that way off the parkway and the cop-wannabe nodded. By the time I came out on the other side, he was gone.

I rode home with a newfound disrespect for authority.