Giving the Horn

I’m pretty easy going and not easily goaded into anger by dumb asses. Except yesterday while driving to the gym along the lake shore, I was sorely tempted. The weather was a scorching 90 degrees. No one here has A/C so anything above 85 is unbearably hot to us. The lake shore road was busy with beach goers, cars and a bicyclist. The cyclist walked instead of peddled, shirtless and sweating profusely. He reached the street I wanted to turn on to the same time I did. So, I flicked on my turn signal, stopped and patiently waited for him to slowly walk his bike across the road.
The dumbass behind me didn’t like this. I guess he wanted me to run over the cyclist. He laid on his horn.
The cyclist turned quickly and fixed a menacing glare on me. He screamed, “You honking at me!” I yelled back, “No, it’s the guy behind me.” He didn’t hear me and instead glared at me once again, shaking his head.

I’m miffed. I go over my options. 1. Honk the horn and say, see that wasn’t my car’s honk. It’s likely the bicyclist will run over and punch me if I go this route. 2. Give the finger to the driver behind me. He’s already pissed so that’s definitely not the way to go. 3. Turn after the bicyclist clears the street and drive away.
I chose option 3. The horn sitter behind me dove right and raced around my car at high speed. May he race by a waiting cop and get a ticket, that’s my wish.