To all the motorists, teens and tweens who have mistaken me for Lance Armstrong and shouted out "Hey Lance!", I assure you - I am not Lance. I can, however, see the confusion. Dressed in ballistic nylon knickers and sporting a backpack, riding my 1984 converted fixie with the paper boy rack on the back, I'm sure I look very similar to a 7-time Tour de France-winning professional cyclist.
I should be happy that there is a smattering of Americans that can actually summon up the name of a professional cyclist, an American professional cyclist at that. I am a bit flattered, but mostly annoyed at the lack of creativity. After all, I look more like George Hincapie. Really, even that's a stretch. I guess I'll take "Hey Lance!" over "Hey nut job!" (or worse).