If I lived in a city where I had to worry about critical mass I would drive the biggest, oldest, diesel-est piece of rusty, black smoke blowing, winter ending, sky darkening tank I could find and run over every goddamn one of them that stopped in front of me.
Your solution to getting me to ride a bicycle is to make me late to work?
Yes, yes, I know, they have the right to peaceably assemble. I also have the right to tell them to fuck off out of my way. And when they decide to surround me and bang on my giant death-tank I will simply put it in 4LO and start rolling very slowly. They can move out of the way, or, more preferably, not.
In which case I can't wait to hear the sound of their carbon-nano-tube frame with titanium wheels and carbon fiber brakes and tires and stupid clippy shoes crunch under the enormous weight of whatever I find to drive.
All that said: As long as the dudes on bicycles obey the rules of the road, at least to the same degree I do, we'll get along fine, like I do with the bike riders here, because they aren't a bunch of smug twats who need to keep their goddamn yaps shut and mind their own goddamn business.