Riding bike, fast, as usual. Approaching crosswalk. Yellow lights–flash to alert drivers of pedestrians. To the left, blue car is stopped, its cross walk is clear but it waits for the opposite side. To the right, a white 90s mini-van. Its wheels cradle the crosswalk, stopped over the striped lines. Men at the driver's side window, appear to be talking to driver.
Break. Check to make sure its safe. Split second decision…Go!
Van goes. BREAK! break. My front wheel in front of the van. Both are stopped. Thank God she saw me–or that I saw her…? Fear. Anger. Adrenaline.
Fuck. I almost got hit by a car! ((Kate, remember how someone died right outside your dorm last week from this very thing?))
Bad decision. Fear again. Van and bike at 90 degree stand still. Should I go? I do have the right of way. Van swerves to get around me.
Angry, black, overweight middle-aged woman with cigarette in van: “Ya'all just think you can go, don't you?”
Bitch! thinkchristianthoughtsthinkchristiantthoughtsthinkchristianthoughts. I'm still alive. Maybe she just had a bad day? Maybe she didn't see you. Maybe she should have been paying more attention in fucking pedestrian crosswalk! Anger. Still angry. sigh.
Bad things happen when we're together. We need a break. Its over, sorry I just spent $6.95 on your new lock. Maybe I can still return it.