Yesterday morning I was making my way up Highway 13 on my way in to work. As I neared the top of the hill I looked over my left shoulder to see if the road was clear. It usually is at 5am, but I check anyway. In my peripheral vision I noticed something was actually on my shoulder. I looked again and it was a dragonfly (or damselfly, I never can tell). It was just hanging out, hitchhiking along. I crossed 13 and headed up Sibley Memorial Highway. I looked over my shoulder again, and it was still there. As I approached highway 55 I checked one more time. Still there. This is about three miles of riding with this bug on my back. It was cool. Once I reached 55 I slowed down and turned to get on the path so I could cross the bridge. The fly took this as a good place to disembark, because when I checked my shoulder at the top of the hill it was gone. When most commuters encounter a dragonfly, it's as a smear on their windshield, not as a passenger. It was a nice brush-with-nature kind of moment that made me feel good the rest of the way in.
After showering at the downtown Y, I was approached by a homeless guy. He came toward me with a bus transfer in his hand. I'd been scammed by the "hey mister, I just need one dollar so I can take the bus to visit my sick kid/sister/mother" approach when I was naive and new to working downtown. After that, my policy has been that I don't give money to the homeless. After working in downtown Minneapolis for 9 years, I can usually tell who really needs some help and who's looking for quick cash. This guy didn't need help. In Minneapolis, most of the ones who are working the prime commuter hours are doing just that, working. He thrust the bus transfer at me and grunted. I said, "No, sorry, I don't want the transfer." and tried to move off. He grunted again in a way that made me think he couldn't speak. He pointed at the transfer, and written in ball point it said "my dad died, please help, god bless" I was tempted, but even if I wanted to I didn't have any cash so again I said "No thanks, sorry." I started to pull my bike out of the rack. At this point he realized I wasn't buying. As he walked away he said, very clearly and with decent enunciation, "Fuck off, bike fag."
Date: June 20
Ride type: Commute
June mileage: 217
Year to date mileage: 1679