Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Road Rash

I guess when you mix rain and black top, it becomes ice. At least that is how my bike reacts to it. I found this out yesterday when I rode my bike immediately after rain fell. I made it about ten yards before I hit the ground. Ten yards. That’s it.

I was going around a gradual corner and my back tire slid out, bringing the right side of my body tumbling down like a total dumbass.

“You okay?” asked the guy smoking a cigarette on his porch in a very unsympathetic tone.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” This sentence was preceded and followed by a healthy string of curse words. I’ve heard swearing can help mitigate pain, but I wasn’t thinking about that at the time.

As a result of this incident I had a bleeding scrape on my elbow, road rash on my hip, and a small scrape combined with an ever-growing bump on my upper thigh. I noticed today when I momentarily trotted that both of my knees are sore as well.

Pain sucks, right? Yeah. Still though, I’m a little happy that I fell off my bike yesterday. I’m not saying I’m masochistic. It’s just that it makes me think of when I was younger and I would scrape my knees and whatever else kids do all the time.

I haven’t fallen off of my bike it a very long time. It makes me feel like I will soon be watching Stick Stickly and eating Cheerios in the middle of the afternoon before going for a swim or playing football in the front yard. It almost makes me forget that I’m living in the Grown Up world and I have actual things to worry about.

No money + No job < Out of juice + Shoe shopping

Aside from that, there are other things to be gained from having open wounds. I have always enjoyed having cuts and scrapes and I’m not really sure why. In a backwards way it makes me feel like I’m getting stuff done. It’s proof that I actually get off of the couch once in a while and do something with myself. A scrape on your arm means you had to do something to get it there. If nothing else, it gives you a small story to tell.

The scrapes that used to cover my face (see picture on left) are an exception to this viewpoint. Those made me feel like a monster for a couple of weeks. People tried to act like they weren’t thinking, “Holy shit, what the hell happened to that guy?” Kids stared. And the story wasn’t even a good one.

“You know how they have signs telling you not to jump into the pool? Yeah, that still applies at three o’clock in the morning.” That’s it. Great story, idiot.

Back to the bike crash. When I got to Atlanta, I almost knew I would be coming off of that bike at one point or another. I figured it would be from the narrow roadways and lack of bike lanes. I guess it’s better that it was done in the safety of my apartment facility with some apathetic asshole watching than in the middle of a street with cars driving a foot away from me.

No comments:

Post a Comment