Biker Man

Yesterday I did a very awful thing. Very awful. And the results of this awful thing could have been much worse and horrific than they were. But now the awful thing is kind of a funny thing. I have found this thing which is luckily not tragic to now be a little humorous. Isn't it crazy how that works?

I was turning right from one street to another. The light was red. So, I waited for a break in traffic and then I went for it. The big mistake was that I perfunctorally glanced right after I saw the break in traffic to my left. I clearly did not thoroughly look right because as I started to "go for it", a biker man came out of nowhere from my right and wisked himself across the street right in front of my car. If I'd really looked, I imagine he would have not appeared "out ot nowhere". All was fine, ...except for the fact I'd already started to move by that time.

Of course, how he got across my car so quickly when I was moving makes me wonder how fast he was going. At least now it does. I hadn't considered it much yesterday. And suddenly, as I write this, I wonder if I would have been ABLE to see him. At that speed, how far away was he when I would have looked? But that's another story. And a pointless story or perusal, as I have already accepted blame.

Anyhow, I nipped the back of his rear bike wheel. He kind of tipsied to a stop, put his legs firmly on the ground and managed not to spill his large slurpee beverage. I saw this, as I had pulled over to the side and was looking back to see if I'd killed him or horrifically twisted his leg off or sent him crashing to the ground with a load of scrapes and cuts. No, no, and thankfully no. Instead I was delighted and thankful to find him capably and coherently cursing at me and calling the police on the phone. I really was delighted. When I got out of the car to talk to him, he told the police I had stopped, he was fine, and that he was going to talk to me first before he would ask them to come. I was thankful for that too.

I looked down at the poor guy's bike. As my eyes worked their way to the asphalt on the road where it was, I noticed the shaking legs of the biker man, which I'm sure was the result of all the adrenaline and endorphines running through his body from the great shock I gave him. After all, he just got hit by a car. My car!

Yes, at this point in time I am feeling badly. However, I admit that I am feeling significantly less bad than I would have felt had he actually been hurt. I am mostly feeling lucky. Very lucky. And then I'm telling myself I SHOULD feel bad because of how much potential I had to do a very awful thing just before. It's like my mother, principal and sunday school teacher have taken up a room in my head to be there and tell me how bad I am and what could have happened in the event I should do something bad, ...as I had just done. "I hadn't meant to," I argue. "But you did it all the same," they say. And to that I have no rebuttal.

Biker man calmed down. He was much nicer after he realized I was concerned for his well-being and that I wished to pay for the damage done. I made mention that his back wheel looked bent. He said he bought his bike for $120 and that he could get a new one probably for $100. I luckily had $100 on me. I was so glad. I gave him the $100 and then gave him my phone number and told him to call me in case he found that repairing the bike or getting a new one would cost more. I'm rarely so unphased at so unexpectedly and quickly parting with $100. But it didn't seem like a big loss, all things considered. He thanked me, told me to look more carefully in the future (it was a very kind chastisement, not at all mean or biting), and went on his way. The end. Except for the filed police report, of course. We did that (I may be quite naive, but I do also have moments when I visit reality).

And so, now I think, "I hit a biker man yesterday. How shocking. And frightening. And kinda funny. " I'm very glad, and very thankful, that this story is that kind of story.