So I decided to ride my bike to school today. Not during the day, mind you, but tonight when it was late and no one was on the road. It took me 12 minutes to get there and 15 minutes to get back, but let me tell you folks- it was the most horrifying 27 minutes of my entire life.
There are a lot of things that can happen in 27 minutes. You can unwrap every gift under the Christmas tree, you can draw a picture, chase and armadillo, put on a skit, bake a pie or kick a can down a very long road, but in these last 27 minutes I did none of those enjoyable things.
Instead I pedaled up a very long hill, had to stop to catch my breath because I’ve misplaced my inhaler (again), fly down that very big hill (panicking all the way) and deal with very unsavory people.
What were these nincompoops doing? Well let’s just say they were acting like orifices that push out the excrement of donkeys. The first trucker (and when I say that I really do mean a very large truck that I presume was being driven by a male) came towards me and honked.
It’s nighttime. Stephenville is dark because it’s a country town with not many street lights. I’m a wuss. And the only thing from keeping me becoming a complete organ donor is my helmet. So let’s just say that I jumped... a little...
Okay actually I jumped so hard that I had trouble keeping my bike on the road. At that point I choked it up to bad timing and cautious drivers. But by the third time it happened I realized that these jerks were just doing it to do it.
It finally got to the point where a couple cars swerved at me. I’m sorry but what part of me riding by the side of the road at night makes it okay to drive closer to me? This is Stephenville, people! You don’t have to remind me how bumpy the grass is! It’s been plowed on for generations! So don’t run me off the road- it’s not funny.
Yes, I can see your big truck. Yes, I know you’re overcompensating for something. You don’t need to be a bully to substantiate your manliness.
I can ride with no hands on my handlebars. It’s something that I’ve trained myself to do. I have even read a book while riding my bike, and if these disgustingly moronic guys (I would put money on the fact that they are plowboys) I will buy a gun and I will carry it in one hand when I ride my bike. If they come too close to me again I will go all Princess Merida on them and shoot out their tires while they’re driving.
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