…I would surely be labeled a “douche” by all, or at least before they actually met me. Any guy driving a bright orange Lambo, which would be the color I’d choose, receives the same prejudice and rightfully so. They’re flashy, loud, expensive and rarely driven by likable, down to Earth people, however, if you had access to such a machine, you probably wouldn’t give two shits about what anybody thought. I know I wouldn’t.
The hipster yelling, mocking or scoffing at me as I rip down LaSalle street in second gear wouldn’t even register in my brain as the joy hearing and feeling the crisp Italian power me forward would absorb all of my attention - no pretentious kid of the times would be able to ruin it for me. Besides, we all know serious cyclists of Chicago are much friendlier and less self absorbed than those who drive Italian sports cars.