Tuesday was not my best day.
I got off to a bad start. Just down the hill (east) of the intersection of Fulton and Pierce, alongside Alamo Square (see for yourself), I was given my first ticket for a moving violation.
On a bicycle.
Yes, my ticket says, for make and vehicle, “Specialized Rockhopper, Red.” A stop sign was recently added on Fulton at the Pierce intersection. As I was coming down the hill, I saw a motorcycle cop on Pierce, and I slowed down. Not all the way.
Through the intersection, and “whoop, whoop” — yes, I was being pulled over on my bicycle for going through a stop sign. The policeman told me that his boss had been “strafed” by a couple of bicyclists while walking across the crosswalk recently, so the policeman had been sent out expressly to look for bicyclists. The officer was almost apologetic, saying that he usually wouldn’t bother with bicycles, since he figures that if something goes wrong, the cyclist is the one who will pay the price. Too true. He said he wouldn’t take it personally if I contested the ticket… unclear if that was a nudge and a wink or not. I haven’t decided my next step.
I don’t know (still) whether to be mad or amused or otherwise. My delayed reaction is due to a lack of information as to the cost and possible insurance impact on my otherwise clean “driving” record.
The rest of the day was meetings, meetings, meetings, with a few quick notes on my telling IM message hinting at the incident. I subscribe to a version of the “IM is your friend” vision, but less work-oriented. I ended the day with a bout of food poisoning.
All in all, a March 7 to remember…and never repeat.