I Kind of Doubt It

It was a Wednesday. I know this, all these years later, because I was doing my weekly evening Inverness Loop, and I only did those on Wednesday. What I don't remember is whether or not I was doing one or two laps on that particular evening. I had just made the turn onto Mountain after the big descent to Chevy Chase. There was a car up ahead, not far ahead, after having turned onto the same street just before me. I soft-pedaled a bit, just enough to let the gap between us increase a little; I could do that because Mountain, headed in this direction, was still slightly down hill and I was not worried about losing momentum. Before I knew it something flew out the back window, a white bag, a McDonalds bag. The bag was followed by a wrapper out the window on the other side of the car. For the next few seconds wrappers and food containers continued to be deposited, out one window or the other, onto the road in front of me. With each bit of litter my frustration turned to anger.

My pedaling ability was pretty quick back then, and it was nothing to pick up speed and close the gap by the next stop sign. It was a warm evening so the drivers' window was down; as I pulled up along side the car and quickly assessed the situation (mother driving, two kids in the back) I said, "hey, yer little darlings are throwing trash out the windows." The mother was stunned, first that I had caught her, and second that her little terrors darlings would do something so evil. She immediately turned in her seat, fixed the two with a cold, hard stare and, in so many words, proceeded to feed them a helping of fire and brimstone. 

What? Are you kidding me, of course she did not. Basically, she told me to mind my own business and "F-off." Then she drove along on her merry way. Maybe she did those other things later, but I kind of doubt it.