Tags
diary, grand scheme of things, humor, inanimate object, ingenious idea, life, personal, relationships, riding my bicycle, transportation
For about four months now my entire right arm, specifically my hand, has been acting up. It is difficult to type, write, and sometimes to hold objects when my hand is in a certain position. Three days ago a bump appeared just under my skin and the only thing I have to blame is my bike (or myself? No an inanimate object is a far better scapegoat).
So let’s step into the DeLorean and head back to about Mid-April when the weather was still nice enough to ride around town on a bicycle…
Back-to-the-Future
Mike had the ingenious idea that we should go riding to the bars in our neighborhood, and what could be wrong about that, other than we are still operating machinery of some kind. The major problem is people like us, people hook us up, and I still have that frat girl mentality of finish your drinks come hell or high water. So after a whole hell of a lot of high water, Mike and I ventured home.
I remember bits and pieces of this, and I fully understand that I am lucky to be alive. I rocked at riding my bicycle wasted, when I had momentum but the second I pushed the breaks my entire body would be laid out on the ground. On my back, on my side, on my arm, on my face, on my ass, on my arm again, near my face… you get the point, and it was hilarious. I laughed the entire way home. I fell off so many times Mike lost count, and sometimes I would pop back up before he saw, which made me feel quite cunning, like a Wasted Secret Agent who really wasn’t any good at their job.
The next morning I thanked God I was not in a jail cell, and the only things I lost in the battle against gravity and sobriety were my sunglasses, water bottle, Drivers license, and credit card. That is a lot of stuff I am aware, however in the grand scheme of things not too bad.
Mike made fun of me for over a month about my ridiculous alcohol overload, and about a month to the day I did that, we went out with our bikes for drinks again. This time I kept my head on straight and had just one. Mike didn’t seem to have that many, but the fact that he totally wiped out after crashing into a light post that he had pretty much completely cleared, might beg to differ.
I rode up to his side where he laid sprawled out on the lawn of a random building.
“Owww!!!!!” He moaned over and over, while tears ran down my face from laughing so hard. Clearly he didn’t drink enough, because while I am pretty sure I have a hairline fracture in my hand, and I sustained multiple cuts and bruises, I just laughed and trudged on never once saying Oww.
“To alcohol the cause of and solution to all life’s problems.” Homer Simpson.
-ducksoup- 