scald.jpg

Miserable morning. Hummerville was laminated in a thin layer of ice, so I left the trusty Trek at home and headed out on foot–a foot hindered by a Metro-North door slamming me in the heel yesterday on the 5:46, no less.

The rain was falling and the roads were a messy mix of ice and mud. I hit the home stretch to the Hummerville station–the lonely strip of auto parts stores, insurance offices and an ancient graveyard–that line the back entrance to the station.

As I neared the stairs, I saw a massive SUV preparing to leave after discharging a passenger. It was a black Escalade that was as big as your first NYC apartment, roomy enough not only to house an NFL quarterback and his O-line, but a few of his fighting pit bulls as well.

I gave the colossal ride a sneer. Mind you, we’re not all fully green–I know The Missus takes our car over to the elementary school to spin donuts the second I steer my bike out the driveway. Bomething about the sight of the Escalade, its driver warm and dry on the inside as I schlepped through the freezing rain, dropped me into a foul mood.

But my mood changed as I got within 10 feet of the hulking Escalade. A license plate from the heavens: EGO 1914.

That made my morning.