The first was a charming concerto of incompetence, which you can see below:
I can't find a single thing in this photograph that isn't stupid. The truck is stuck between the parked cars. The car on its right is parked on the wrong side of the street, in front of a fire hydrant. (If you're going to park illegally, you might as well make it count.) As such, the truck's driver is routing traffic around this gangbang of stupidity by guiding it onto the sidewalk. Here he is shown bidding adieu to the driver of a green minivan, who, having successfully passed, is once again free to roam the streets in search of victims.
The second was decidedly less charming and more organic. Some of you may have at some point or another longed for the opportunity to spit in my face. Well, here is a person who actually has:
Of course, he did so inadvertently. I happened to be nearby when he discharged, the wind was in his favor, and it was only a fine mist by the time it reached me. But that doesn't make it any less disgusting, and as cyclists we must all adhere to a collective pact: look before you spit. My first instinct was to chide him verbally, but I opted instead to follow him and photograph him. And it wasn't easy. Despite his innocuous, upright, nerdy appearance, he rode in a reckless fashion that would make a messenger blush. He spent more time on the sidewalk than a Bichon's leavings or one of those Sarah Lawrence students who panhandle on the Lower East Side over the summer. In fact, note that he's still on the sidewalk in the photo. Eventually, we parted ways when he abruptly turned west on an eastbound one-way street.
The heedless spitting combined with the heedless riding was enough for me to once again make an exception to my policy of not taking candid photos of other cyclists. In this case though I do it less to avenge a wrong than I do it to help my fellow commuters, so that should they encounter this windbreaker-clad phlegm dispenser they can be sure to stay upwind of him.