Steel Coffin: Americas automobile Addiction
My friend Yvette and I went out for a ride late last Friday night. Our route took us from Wicker Park to the North Ave. beach, south on the lakefront to somewhere near downtown, over to State, and ending up on Elston heading back towards Bucktown.

We were in the Loop heading north on State at about 1:45 a.m., Yvette slightly ahead of me. I heard a noise and looked over my left shoulder to see a Range Rover filled to the brim with 20-something white trixies pulling up to me fairly close. The front passenger stuck his hand out the window to high-five me. I laughed and made a high-five gesture back at him, not getting close enough to actually touch him.
Then the Range Rover pulled ahead toward Yvette and all of a sudden a handful of change comes whipping out of the car at her wheels! We were both completely shocked. They pulled ahead but got stuck at the next light, and I rode up to the vehicle and asked them what the hell they thought they were doing, they could really hurt someone like that! (I think it was pretty clear that the driver did it.) All of the passengers looked terrified of me and the front passenger who had high-fived me kept saying “just DRIVE. just DRIVE!” So they pulled ahead and got stuck at the next light, and I rode up again and continued my questioning. The driver was obviously intoxicated and couldn’t even come close to making any sense; he kept spewing some gibberish about us being on bikes, as if that’s a good reason to throw change at someone from a moving vehicle. Then they sped away.

My only hope is that this guy’s carload of friends now see him for the complete bastard that he is. (Actually we neglegted to get his plate number, although it would have been fun to research it and then send him an envelope full of change in the mail...)