For a while, my perpetual aggravation at the bicyclists, Razor scooter-ists and that lone unicyclist on campus came from sheer jealousy: They get places faster than me at even my most vigorous power-walking clip and avoid the awkwardness of, you know, talking to people. But, lately, annoyance has given way to sheer terror.

I don’t know if it’s all the freshmen on campus – hey, join The Daily – or just a case of amnesia on the part of returning students, but people seem to have forgotten basic biking etiquette. And by ‘biking etiquette,’ I mean ‘people etiquette.’ More times than I care to recall I have been very nearly knocked over this week by some speedy demon on wheels.

And, I mean, I get it. The first day of class is exciting and you want to get a seat perfectly placed in the back third of the classroom so you decide to whip across campus, veering wildly between plebeian pedestrians at incredible speeds. Plus, you’re basically Big Man/Woman On Campus if you pop a wheelie in front of Tech. Really, I get it.

But this running-of-the-bikes disaster is giving me a greater appreciation for Evanston rules which ban bikes from public sidewalks. Which, consequently, makes me want to lead a Frances Willard-esque biker prohibition movement on campus. Which, in turn, makes me feel like a total tool.

So please, slow down there, Lance Armstrong.

-Katherine Driessen, Editor-in-chief