I've been cycling in Melbourne for a number of years and I've been doored a few times with many more near misses. Strangely the people responsible for the near misses are almost always apologetic, but if you hit a door I find you immediately cop a spray. Apparently, as the cyclist, it's all your fault. The exchange usually goes like this: SIMON: (Slowly picking himself up off the road) Look before you open the door, you moron. I think my handlebars are bent.
MOTORIST: Well, that's nothing to do with me, mate. You should watch out for doors. If you can't brake to a standstill in 0.1 of a second, you should slow down. It's your choice to ride, mate. And if you're riding because you can't afford a car, it's your choice to be poor too. I work hard and I'm not gonna have some cyclist tell me I can't fling open doors haphazardly. You wanna ride, you gotta take responsibility for the dangers and not expect other people to look out for ya. You'd probably love to ride from point A to point B without being involved in easily avoidable road incidents, but you don't always get what you want in this life, mate. The rest of us bloody live with what's dealt to us. You think I wanted to marry my wife? I fell in love with a German girl when I was 22 travelling through South East Asia. We had a hot and heavy romance. I saved-up to visit her in Dusseldorf, but when I lobbed up on her door, she pretended not to know me. But that's how it is, isn't it? That's life. You accept it and you bloody get on with it. I made the most of it. My wife's father got me a plumb middle management job. I bloody hate it. I always wanted to be in musical theatre, but there weren't those opportunities when I was young. Now, bloody kids can do whatever they want. No one is giving me the lead in West Side Story just because I want it, sonny! So the next you crash into a door, when you're lying in your hospital bed being fed through a straw, just remember that it was your call to not be like the rest of us and drive. And you just think about hard working people like me who are forced to live their life with a woman who says she doesn't get Jesus Christ Superstar. What's there not to get?! It's a rock musical with Jesus. What is wrong with you, Cassandra! Sorry, it all spewed out there. Felt good to get it of my chest. I should give ya $110 for the counselling session! Ha ha.
SIMON: Or you could give me money to fix my bike.