I was driving to lunch this afternoon and some jackwagon in a hybrid-crossover-semi-SUV wannabe kind of vehicle pulled out in front of me. Aside from the usual string of strongly worded invectives, when we pulled up to a stop sign I noticed he had a handicapped parking permit hanging from the rear view mirror. I only mention this because there was what I’m fairly certain was at least a several hundred dollar mountain bike mounted to the roof rack of this vehicle.

I don’t ask for much, but if you’re going to drive like a moron and haul around a mountain bike, something tells me you just might be able to walk the extra twenty feet from the parking lot to the front door. Sure, I’m working under the assumption that he wasn’t, uhh, just holding the bike for someone else, but it seems like a reasonable assumption. Look, I know the world is full of asshats, but maybe you could stick your parking pass under the visor and slightly reduce my desire to drive over you to make sure you’ve got a good reason to use it.