What possesses you to ride over the top deck of the Steel Bridge, squeezing around pedestrians in that tiny little sidewalk area?
There's a nice, wide lower deck just below, yet for some reason it's fashionable to ding your bell and get all huffy and annoyed at peds on the upper deck.
I mean, for fuck's sake the lower deck isn't much harder to access and it plops you out in almost exactly the same spot on the other side (especially if you're heading east).
If the riders attempting to squeeze through up top looked like schlubby weekend warriors, maybe I'd write it off as pure ignorance, but at least a few of you clown are done up in the full lycra getup, perched atop a multi-thousand-dollar road bike. Shouldn't you know better? I thought your midlife crisis would welcome the extra work of chuffing up that little switchback ramp on the Esplanade, not avoid it. Or maybe you're too cool to share a path with the joggers and novices down below?
At any rate, I laughed out loud when one of you dumb fucks couldn't quite control your line and jammed your pricey artisan-crafted pastel-powder-coated "I could totally be a bike messenger if I wasn't a successful UX designer" front rack into that rusty guard rail as you passed. I saw you wince and I had a good fucking chuckle. Why not take the lane, tough guy?