Here's how it went down. Rolling through Sausalito, and climbing up a hill. Felt a forceful nudge on my rear as I was rounding the corner, and unless my seat all of sudden decided to play "grab a$$" with me, something wasn't copasetic. I was already riding on the white line close to the edge, so I know my road etiquette was polite. I kept rolling, and turned to look back, and there was a bumper nudging my left cheek. I locked eyes with the gentleman, and there was no hatred nor anger, simply a question mark as to why my heiny was his target?
I kept rolling, and finally the bumper left. As this whole deal was going down, I never reached for the brakes, nor clinched the handlebars, and nor flinched. When I caught a glimpse of my hands on the handlebars, they were at ease. After all these years, the bike and I guided one another. Awesome.
As I descended to the stop light, one kind gentleman was also there waiting for the light to change. We did the whole stare down song-and-dance. Where I gave him the, "beagle-dog-what-in-the-world-are-you-thinking" look, and he gave me the, "I am going to stare out the corner of the window, avoid you, and act like nothing happened."
Regardless, it's all good in the hood.