Irony

Ironically, I was just complaining last night about deer and the potential for an accident.  Well, tonight I had an actual accident with an animal.  A party animal.

The whole scene seemed like it was staged.  I was buzzed.  Before I left my friend said "be safe, you've had a few drinks."  I blew off the comment and said "don't worry, I'm riding on the sidewalk." 

Well, the sidewalk is a real obstacle course for bikers.  Pedestrians don't understand that bikers can ride on the sidewalk.  So, there is a lot of hostility built into a bike ride along the sidewalk rather than the road.  See, I had to ride on the sidewalk because I planned really poorly for the day, in general, and I didn't have my bike lights with me by the time I was heading home after 10 pm. 

So, I was doing just fine, ringing my bell incessantly and slowing down for pedestrians, trying to maneuver the crowds.  Until, drunk asshole #1 shows up right in front of Benetton on Connecticut Ave.  He was doing some kind of performance for the girls he was with, and I was ringing my bell and doing all I could to alert him to my presence.  And then, it happened.  We had a collision.  I thought the idiot would move.  But he didn't.  And I ran right into him.  My handle bars lodged right into his ribs.  I had to jump off of the bike. 

It was really the most anti-climactic moment ever.  He yelled "oh, yeah." And I yelled back, "ohhhhh, yeahhhhhh."  And then, his girlfriend huffed.  And then, I huffed.  Then, it was all over.  I got back on my bike.  And I headed home.  I really had no idea what had actually just happened, but I wasn't about to look back.

The other thing I realized in this moment was the serious level of uncoolness that I embody.  I was wearing my helmet - the helmet that I use everyday and that everyday fits my head just perfectly.  Well, tonight, it was as if all of the work on PhD applications shrank my brain and as a result, my entire head.  My helmet, which is supposed to protect me, was my biggest enemy during this duel with the drunk idiot on the sidewalk.  I was yelling at him as if I were a professional biker and he was a professional idiot.  And all the while, my helmet wasn't actually on my head, and the strap was choking me, but I was trying not to let on to those facts.The wind forced my helmet to fall behind my head, so it looked like I was wearing a helmet scarf and having some kind of sado-masochistic moment of pain with my head-protector.  It was just awful.  I felt extremely self-righteous on the sidewalk.  

And as I panted up the steep hill from Dupont Circle to Adams Morgan, I realized that although in my mind, I did everything right in that situation...perhaps to the outside eye I seemed a bit crazy.
 
Sadly true story. The End.