Wednesday, April 17, 2013

40 oz and bikes don't mix

So this happened last night on my way home from the Jewel where I was picking up some vegetables to steam for dinner. I was walking normally carrying my goods and listening to LA Guns I think, when a dude cruised by me on his bike drinking a 40 ouncer. He was actually twisting the top back on and when he did, he let it go thinking the plastic Jewel bag it was traveling in was still connected to the handle bar. Well it wasn’t so when he let go it slammed on to the concrete and he just kept right on going. It didn’t break, but it made a loud knock which caught my attention. The dude started to make a quick circle so he could come back around and pick up his deliciously boozey friend. He must have watched a war movie or two and known that you never leave a man behind! While he was looping around the full size truck that was driving the same direction drove right over his 40 and it made a huge POP-crunching sound… A split second later there was a full on thermo-nuclear chain reaction underway by the crestfallen biker. He flew into a whirlwind of F-bombs and open palm/arm raising. The truck just kept right on driving like it was Sunday afternoon at the park. About 20 yards back a girl in a blue Honda was approaching and had really no idea what happened I assume. As she neared the crime scene where this guys 40 ouncer met its untimely death he was now about 2 feet from the spot in the middle of the street screaming at this girl “Yo bitch ass gunna fukin roll over my shit too den? White bitches rolling over my shit den right?” I think she was just driving along, probably listening to ‘Ain’t No Hollar Back Girl’ or whatever girls in blue Hondas listen to and just saw this guy foaming at the mouth ready to assault her Honda and possibly her if he was strong enough to punch thru the windshield. So she hit the gas and sped thru the scene. He must have thought she was going to run him over because the Earth and sky nearly split open with his anger after that. No traffic was able to cross from that moment on the street now contained a dead 40 ouncer crime scene, a downed bike and a crazy dude losing his mind. As I walked on I noticed an older guy on his stoop laughing historically. I couldn’t help but pop my ear bud out and ask him what was so funny. He said “Da guy, hes’ cervezas get squished”. I laughed at this guy’s pleasure with the other guys misfortune, That poor girl is probably telling the same story to her co-workers right now about how she was nearly murdered for driving down Blackhawk. There is no moral here other than people are funny and 40 ouncers are tough to handle on a bike.

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