Suddenly, without warning (as these things usually happen), I got - what those in the cycling world call - doored. That is, a passenger in a cab that was sitting in traffic at the light swung her door open without looking and I crashed right into it (The BF has written about this almost happening to him several times). After hitting the door, I then slammed into the car that was parked to the right of it. The guy sitting in the parked car (he had just finished parallel parking) said it sounded like a truck hit him (same weight class, I guess).
At first I was in shock I guess, because I couldn't feel anything. All I wanted to do was just yell "FUCK!!!!!" at the top of my lungs. The passenger (a trannie) said "I'm sorry" only twice. He/she could not have sounded less sincere. I told him/her to just go away. My only thought was, "Oh craphole, the bike!" But the bike ended up without injury.I, on the other hand, sustained some fairly nice bruising. At first, I got a goose-egg on my left calf about the size of a tennis ball. And eventually the shock wore off and I started feeling the pains everyplace: my left forearm, the middle of my back, the back of my left knee, my left wrist, and especially my left thigh. The only saving grace was that I wasn't going any faster.
But when you fall off a horse, you have to get back on, right? So the next day, with bruises and all, The BF and I went on a 15-or-so-mile bike trip around the city just checking out places we wanted to see, like Oz Park, St. Michael's Church, the Midwest Buddhist Temple, and the Carl Street Studios. I will admit to feeling a little skittish the first few times I had to ride between automobiles, but it was a great day and it felt good to get out.
And I now feel part of an unofficial and unfortunate group of people who happen to be doing the right thing in the right place at the wrong time.
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