I Fell Off My Bike

So I fell off my bike earlier this week. It was all Russell Peters' fault. If I hadn't learned that there were free student tickets to his show here in a couple of weeks on offer at the Union, I wouldn't have been biking at breakneck speeds to get there and back during the 10 minute break in my Negotiations class. So I tried to jump the kerb and I probably shouldn’t have. But that doesn’t stop it being Russell’s fault. (I’ll still come see you Russell, don’t worry.)

The wheels came out from under me and I did a graceful twist/twirl in the air, my legs gently caressing the bike frame. I landed on my back. Glasses safe. Watch safe. Head safe. In that order. A passer-by was concerned.

“Are you alright?” she inquired.
“Yes… just feel a little stupid,” I answered, still on my back.
“Don’t worry. It’s happened to me loads of times,” she assured me as I rose gingerly.
“Well, then you must be one sorry uncoordinated type person,” I said. No no. I just thought that. What I actually said was nothing. I just smiled… for two reasons

1. She was probably just trying to be nice, my above average brain reasoned.
2. She was rather pretty. But seriously, I wouldn’t have been mean to an ugly girl either. Seriously.

Anyway, the bike was beyond riding. Brake lever broken off… back brakes jammed… etc etc. So I gave it up as lost, jogged to the union, got my ticket and jogged back to class in time. Later that evening, I limped home to my sympathetic house mates. Who laughed when I told them my tale of woe and injury. We have a funny dynamic in this house. We laugh at each other’s misfortunes. We laughed at Isaac when his girlfriend broke up with him. We laughed at Kenley when he missed his flight. And we laughed at Clay when… well, we laugh at Clay all the time.

You’ll be happy to know I have almost fully recovered from my bruises now (mother). I managed to sell the remains of my bike to a second hand bike shop for $50. Which wasn’t bad, considering I paid $110 for it brand new. I’m such a hustler.

Life goes on.