Triple Lutz

Sorry for the delay. I've suffered some trauma of late, and of which I would not care to speak; except to say that it involves me, my bicycle, and a honda civic full of esses who were as high as this cat/chicken hybrid is cute.

I will also divulge that said civic pulled into the path of the route which I navigate to find my way to work. And just between you, me and the internets: they pulled directly in front of me so that I was left with little means to avoid death by hoopdie--save what I actually did to do so, which was kicking a huge dent in the front fender and then rolling over the hood.

The narcotically-endowed gentleman who happened to be in the driver's seat, shoved his doo-ragged numb-skull out the window annnnd:

"Yo, uhhhuhhuh, is it scratched yo?" 

"BleepBleep--¿que dijo we?--Bleepbleep" 

(sweet sounds of the cellphone that he was free-chirping on as he crashed into me, and during all that followed.)

"Yes, there is a huge dent. You hit me with your car."

All the while a large contingent of Hasidic Jewish fellas began to gather on the side of the street so as to get a view of the action.

"BleepBleep--Yo we, una bicicleta loco!--BleepBleep," he explained to his friend on the other end of the freakin speakerphone.

"Uh, actually you were driving loco, man." I retorted, in a somewhat jocular fashion. One might think it unwise to rile a car full of young gentlemen who had been in the process of leaving the Housing Projects, Marcy. 

Anyhoo, if you promise to keep your fat mouth shut, I'll also say that I was in a rush to get to work and he was in a rush to avoid involvement of anyone in uniform, aside from the already present religious nuts; so we shook hands and went on our now somewhat less than merry ways.