Absolutely Fine

September 9th, 2006

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Dr. E-

I’m totally energized because I almost died. I’m riding down Myrtle on my way into the city when a blue Chevy from around the time Cindy Lauper was popular turns left, cutting me off. I didn’t have time for fear, just the thought, “Well, looks like I’m gonna hit ‘im.? I wish someone was videotaping so I could watch the crash and see for myself its awesome gruesocity. But alas, my plan to have some kid constantly recording my life never took off. I remember feeling my arm twist somehow and the back of my head bounce of the concrete. Immediately, I leaped to my feet and did twenty jumping-jacks. I realized I was totally unhurt. Or in other words, I now have empirical evidence that I am truly invincible. The massing witnesses all inquired if I was okay. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve never felt better.? My announcement was followed by applause, cheering, strangers hugging each other, and then Mayor Mike Bloomberg presented me with the key to the city. Sadly, the impact completely destroyed the Santa Fe, leaving a pile of dilapidated metal where once a lady-killing dream bike stood.

As for the man who failed to kill me, I’d describe him as shaken up, reasonable, and more concerned for my well being than his own; which as a rule of thumb are all requisite characteristics for the people I surround myself with, so we hit it off. He gave me his number and offered to pay for the damage to my bike, but since my bike is pretty much worthless, I guess I’ll find a new one to buy and ask him to help pay for it. In the end, I see this as a major gain: new bike w/ discount plus I feel like a million bucks… a million bucks that can never be destroyed! (Also, I plan to be shot in the heart at point blank range on Tuesday as a follow-up display of unharmability.)

Really the only shitty part, other than being bikeless for the time being is that I lost an hour or more of the day carrying the Santa Fe rubble home and then taking the subway into Manhattan. Although, I did have this sweet interaction with a kindly, middle-aged, rounded, black woman:

I finger through sections of a discarded newspaper in the subway.

Her: Is that today’s or yesterday’s?

I look at the date.

Me: Tomorrow’s?

Her: Oh.

Me: Do you want some of the sections?

Her: Yeah, I have a long ride.

Me: Ok… Business Day or Automotive?

That actually happened and it was tomorrow’s paper, dated September 10, 2006. I guess they release the non-time-sensitive sections on Saturday now.