To drivers, you are an obstacle that sometimes spits. To dogs, you are something to be attacked. To jaywalkers, you are apparently invisible. To coworkers, you are charitably thought of as 'eccentric.'But kids riding in cars think you're pretty novel. And by 'novel,' I mean 'badass.' They ride bikes, so they can relate to you. They don't ride fast like you, though. That bike you're on is the coolest thing ever. And Dad would shriek like Mom if they tried riding in and out of city traffic like that.
For that split second, when you plunge past a car window with a 4-8 year old face smushed against it, you are the coolest person ever.