So, which lovely car would YOU like to be doored by?

It happened again. I narrowly escaped being doored in Inman Square. I was on my daily bicycling commute going at a leisurely 8-9 miles per hour just past Cambridge Hospital (convenient, eh?) when suddenly: A woman abruptly strides into the lane 3 feet ahead of me, and in a split second flings open the door of her Mercedes straight into my path. I swerve, stop, and give her a shocked glare. She starts to apologize, “Oh, I didn’t …” and then, as if a switch flicks on in her mind, she suddenly changes tone. “I came here first, you should have seen me!”. And then, without bothering to listen, she repeats this twice. For emphasis. Then, she enters the car and shuts the door.

Sigh. I tried to control myself and explain. She had walked into the lane without looking left or right, on a busy street during morning rush hour. No effect. Apparently, I was at fault. I should have stopped when I saw her materialize in my path from behind a parked van. In that epiphanic moment when she switched gears from apology to defense, she must have calculated that at a speed of 8.5 mph, I had a full 0.25 seconds to react. See? If only I had lightning fast reflexes and good peripheral vision, I could have stopped and allowed Lady Mercedes to open her door and drive leisurely away.

She had medical scrubs on. When the buzzing in my ears stopped, I wondered if she was having a bad day or something. Or, maybe she had been on medical call the night before and was sleep-deprived. Who knows? I just don’t want to be doored, and after three close shaves so far, I wonder how much longer my luck will hold.

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