Friday, July 13, 2007

Kitty Kitty Bang Bang

So it's early Friday morning and my body really hurts. I spent this evening/nite serving too many beers to too many people. For fuck's sake folks, this is a bar in a family restaurant on a Thursday nite! I will try not to complain as my wallet is much thicker than it was this afternoon but sometimes I do have to wonder if any of these lushes have day jobs. Anyway, I caught glimpses of stage 5 of The Tour on our killer flat screens in between doling out 22's and glasses of white wine. I'm amazed at plenty of things while watching cycling of this caliber but mostly by how fucking fast they go. So the nite finally ends at 1:45AM and I lock up and mount up. The summer road construction has altered my line home and with it being prime drunk driving time I figure I'll drop the hammer up one street and take a left down the only other road I need to get to my own. It's still a million degrees out but pretty quiet until the halfway mark. The street narrows a tad here and gets considerably darker so I hear the ruckus before I can see it. Then, just off to my left I glimpse two cats wrapped into a ball of spit and claws and fury, rolling one over the other locked into a total cartoon action sequence. They tumbled out of the grass across the sidewalk and off the curb into the street, hissin and pissin' the whole way. At this point I realize I'm not watching what I'm doing and glance up just in time to see the ass end of a parked SUV closing in on me. A reflexive swing to the left and my front wheel sneaks by but my bars clip the vehicle somewhere around the taillights. Later. I tucked and rolled in the air and landed on my back and hands and ankle and Vans and knees. Whoa. I got up and looked around and apparently, what little sound the crash made didn't disturb anyone. The cats were gone and I have to wonder if they were laughing at me as well. The SUV looked okay and my bike was fine except for the crooked bars. I collected myself and laughed a bit as I slow rolled it home. At the last big intersection by my house there is a crowd of people, a cop taking pictures and a woman on her cell describing to someone exactly how totaled her car is. It's sitting there in the middle of the street leaking fluid and steaming. I ride on by, then let myself into the house, kiss my wife goodnight, smile at my own cat and clean the rocks out of my hand while thinking about how rad The Tour is. But I also pause to think about the fact that my own life is pretty cool too, even when it hurts.

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