Somewhere in Orange County is a humbled bicyclist with a shiner and a damaged "$2,000 carbon fiber-and-unobtainium bicycle." Dave Lieberman, who writes about food for OC Weekly, gives the blow-by-blow. Sample:
If you read the retrograde morons in the comment section of any news story about cycling, you'd think all cyclists are assholes. This is not true; the vast majority of the people who zip along the Santa Ana River Trail on the weekends are polite, pleasant people. They're out for exercise, often with their kids, and they greet fellow riders with a nod, a "Good morning," or a polite "On your left."
Nevertheless, I met one of the small minority of jackass riders a week and a half ago; he's the kind of person who gives all cyclists a bad name and lends credence to the peanut gallery.
"You guys go ahead. I'm going to teach this motherfucking faggot a lesson," he said, and started to kick dirt and rocks onto me as they took off and I tried to get up. Then he kicked me in the shoulder where it had hit the ground.
I'm not particularly nimble, but I'm not totally immobile either, and so I swept my leg, carried his skinny shaved legs out from under him, jumped on top of him, gave him a shiner to remember me by, and shoved his shoulder hard into the edge of the pavement. Then I threw his precious $2,000 penis extension into the nopales, just as the cops showed up.
The story goes on, of course.