Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Rolling home from Velocult after work last night, I come across a yellow single speed on its side in the middle of the street.  Twenty feet further on, I spy a dude laying on the curb, covered in blood.

"Dude!" I say.  He starts to get up and I coax him back down. I give him my water bottle and tell him to have a drink while I retrieve his bike and bag. 

Back at the curb, we sit together.  He has blood all over his face, his t-shirt, his arms and even on his socks.  But he knows his name and where he works and what day it is and he's making good eye contact. 

He smiles at me.  "You look so badass right now, can I take a photo?" I ask. Just then, the couple whose sidewalk we're sitting on walk out.  She's already got gloves on and is carrying a small medical kit and a roll of paper towels.  "This happens several times a week", she says.  "C'mon, I'll drive you to the hospital".
Just south of the Hollywood MAX pedestrian bridge that crosses I-84, on 42nd Avenue, there are bumps caused by tree roots.  They've been painted pink.  Wear a helmet and be ready!




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