Old lady: 1, Harley slob: 0

I was riding my bicycle through Riverside this morning and came upon a funny little scene. A little old lady walking her teacup-sized dog is crossing the street at a crosswalk. Waiting for her behind a stop sign is this rough tough creampuff astride his big ol' Harley. He's your basic dentist or contractor or whatever working through his midlife crisis, so naturally he's got his two-wheeled surrogate boner outfitted with them classic Harley loud pipes (they save lives!), and you can scarcely hear yourself think over the deafening

"POTATO-POTATO-POTATO-POTATO-POTATO" of his idling engine. Little old lady, who's carrying a plastic bag full of poop in her hand, stops just before the curb, turns around and waves the bag like a starter's flag in front of the Harley douche, who's utterly nonplussed but seems to realize he's being dissed. After a beat of looking blankly at one another, she steps up unto the curb and he rolls stoically on his way.