Probably one of the best places on earth to people watch is out in The Hamptons on Long Island. I am pretty certain that it is one of the most diverse cross sections of America to be found.

The people in the Hamptons are everything from hard-working immigrants, who work like five jobs and live in tiny, old fishing cabins and cottages to the top 1%, whose multi-million dollar mansions on the ocean are their “summer places.”

So these two ends of the social and cultural spectrum – along with all that falls in between – from fisherman families who have been here for generations to the nouveau rich in fedoras, pretending they are somebody are jammed together tightly and often forced to interact.

Everyone has to eat so it’s not unusual to see actress‘ Kim Catrell or Julianna Moore on line at the supermarket check out with the landscaper from Ecuador with his whole cooked chicken and bottle of soda returning home from work.

Everyone needs gasoline so you are just as likely to be in line with P Diddy in his black Lincoln Navigator or a Bentley from old family money as you are to be behind six farm workers in a Toyota Corolla or a Bonacker (local) in a huge pick-up with a dog in the back and a bumper sticker that says, “Piping Plover tastes just like Chicken.”

What a great country we live in. Where else could this happen?

In the Spring – on the weekends – is when you encounter one of the most unique species of Mammal. They are found along most roads and pose one of the greatest dangers you will face in the Hamptons. That creature is the cyclist.

I’m not talking about the locals on ten speeds and mountain bikes going back and forth to work. No, not them. They “get it.” They understand that a car traveling at 40 MPH making contact with a bike rider going 20 MPH is a lose/lose situation even if they are “entitled” to be on the road as they, too, are a vehicle.

Nope, I’m speaking of that species of mammal who think and believe that if you put on a colorful outfit of spandex, ( God help us) and ride a two thousand dollar bicycle, you suddenly are invincible and an automatic participant in the Tour de France. No changing speed, using brakes or yielding way for these posers… no way.

They drive down the road – kind of on the shoulder, kind of in the road – and refuse to give way to a two ton vehicle because they too have a right to be there… it is out in the country after all. Then they get mad when you go around them. It’s comical.

Don’t get me wrong. I understand completely that they are a vehicle and have a right to the road. Let’s use a little common sense here, Lance Armstrong, shall we? If I’m on the road and something three to four times the size of me and going twice as fast wants to get by, I’m going to move over. I’ve done it and guess what? My penis didn’t get any smaller. (Thank God). I don’t care how good your flashy orange tinted sunglasses and tear drop helmet look, it’s common sense, man.

I think it could be the outfit that causes this phenomena. Apparently spandex bike outfits are magical. You put it on and it turns the Hedge Fund guy invincible.

The end result is they reach their destination, which is usually the beach, get off their bicycles in their second skin outfit and little Dutch boy shoes and display their wares. There they stand, gazing at the ocean, hands on hips, sun gleaming off the orange sunglasses and perfectly buffed helmet and a bowl of fruit in their riding shorts.

“Look at me everyone, I’m circumcised!”

Then it’s back on their bike to wreak havoc on drivers on their long ride home…. which could be a good six or seven blocks.

Now I don’t begrudge people anything. The rich folks have made their money and come to the Hamptons to relax and play. That’s great! I’m happy to live in a place where many people want to be. The immigrants come here seeking a new and better life, a new country and opportunity. That’s cool, too! It’s the premise this country was built on.

Even the rich folk’s families, at some point in time, were in a similar position as the working families and people from other countries. We can’t forget that, too.

So we live together… in different parts of town but that’s ok, we’re comfortable that way. Things will remain smooth as long as the crime rate stays low. If it doesn’t, and people stop feeling safe, then it will change. People will leave and understandably so.

There is one crime in the Hamptons that everyone should take exception to. It is the most despicable, in your face action from one human to another. It is a crime where you totally thumb your nose at society, your neighbors and the community as a whole. It is a motor vehicle crime where you might as well turn around and flip the bird to the person behind you. That crime is…. double-parking!

If you truly want to measure your anger management level, be the person behind the double-parker. In a town where traffic is already snarled, to ignore everyone else and say, “Fuck it. I’m stopping right here.” Is beyond explanation. By the way, there are no social and economic guidelines for this. It’s a common bond.