It felt like a strange night. It was going to be a special night, one that I looked forward to as soon as the weather started to pick up; a community festival that grew each year until it was a five stage music party for the entire family. It was a cross between a family pick nick in the park and a bunch of young'ns waiting for the families to leave the park as it got dark so they could smoke some pot. There were topless women, some with haphazard paint, greasy food, fat people who lugged comfortable chairs from miles away so they could sit for the entire time. As it would happen you would see this people sitting in front of a stage occupied by people making sounds that were very unappealing to these slothful creatures who continue to toil endlessly on some fine domestic brews and various meat entrees that came variable with bones or without however all were served with a wooden stick that had the appearance of some refined hunting technique.
The night continued and wandered here and there and to a small pond near the smaller stage then to the main stage then to the tent and listened to a variety of local bands making no money and costing all of us nothing. A smashing time.
When the time came, which it came very early, to end the festivities the family picknickers were either on their way out or holding out to the end were relieved when the goons in matching uniforms had a chance to revel in their festivities: exerting their power. They made waving gestures and such but the remaining crowd was young, restless and high on a variety of substances. The real asshole around were clearly drunk while the other party goers were all high some tripping and others maybe just really high from baked goods. The place went from being very loud with live performers everywhere to a still loud park filled with people milling around and talking and buying crap and eating food on sticks. I found myself under a tree in the dark watching people file out and wrap up their good time. This was Saturday night so people were partying harder than the were the previous night and especially hard given tomorrow was Sunday.
There were these rather large lights spread throughout the park that were powered by gasoline generators that made quite a bit of noise. As the crowd was increasingly thinning out a group of rabal rousers found a bench directly under one of these lights and with their portable stereo on shoulder twenty or so people began to have a seriously good time. The goons were quick to notice but only one was close and swiftly leapt to the scene of activity. He arrived and the dancers paid him no attention. He was clearly distruahgt and perterbed. He was getting upset and the dancers paid him little attention. He was getting more and more upset as the fun seekers around were clearly getting a boost in their pleasure and people were noticeably watching the unfolding event. The goon attempted to grab the shoulder device as it blasted in his face but these druggies were having too much fun for that to work. The shoulder lept to the bench and others immediately occupied the terrioty on either side, the music seemed to get louder and the bass hit and there was an expliosion of flailing limps and shaded eyes.
The goon was getting upset and maybe it was the rage they could see welling in his eyes but suddenly the dancers appeared to have communicated though wireless headsets because the should got down from the bench looking quite solemn turned his music off and stood there with his troop looking very sullen. I was happy to have seen the little foray.
For whatever reason, maybe because I happened to be alone, I made the decision that on the ride home which consisted mainly of a straight shot up a four lane street with the slight incline I would ride as fast I was able to. The first two thirds of the ride I managed to keep most of my momentum avoiding complete stops at every lights. I kept nailing green lights and getting faster and faster. I was working the pedals but it felt good, the breeze the movement the lights everything. The lane was free of cross traffic too, i wasn't afraid of hitting reds, I was moving. I approached this light with the speed of the others, it was green and I would make it through. There was a car in the turning lane but there were street lights, they would stop. I came closer and closer to the light the car was moving slowly, I couldn't tell if they were stopped or slowing down, but I assumed it was one of the two. I was about twenty feet from the intersection when I realized the car was in fact going to turn and would hit me given our current trajectories. I tried to stop and swerved to I was directly in front of the car. Pop. I hit the hood and flew off to the opposite side of the street I was crossing. I could discern a bit of a barrel roll, I had no idea where my bike was and then I hit the ground and rolled. I don't think I was unconscious, if I was it was very brief.
It's an odd experience to open your eyes to look up ward at four or five faces that look like they are staring at death, and then to realize they are all looking directly at you. I could see in these faces unfiltered expressions, as if they were suddenly hit with a spot light and their faces dove to find shadows before looking for the source. As I saw their expressions and realized I as the object of their gaze I became concerned that I may be terribly injured. I quickly tried to get up, almost with as much intention as those expressions. I found I could get up and quickly evaluated myself. I was beat up, bleeding a few places but I could walk. I didn't need the ambulance.
I quickly assured all those faces that I would be alright and went to retrieve my bike. The front wheel was mangled. The car was still behind it and the woman was outside at this point looking terrified. Knowing police may soon be called, I suddenly realized I had weed on me and decided any encounter with the authorities would prove to be at best a slight nuisance, but could always dip into the bizarre and terrifying. The woman was struggling to communicate and in a hasty moment I assured her I was fine and dragged my bleeding leg and broken bike to the sidewalk and rounded the corner.
As I walked I was able to evaluate my bike. It was alright for the most part. I was rather surprised to find only my front tire to be damaged. It would need to be replaced, probably around a hundred bucks I thought. I started to regret getting any information from my accidental assailant, I realized I probably could have gotten some cash off that lady, or a check. Something, damn. It was worth it though in the end. Seeing the look of terror on her face as I got up and walked away as if it had been stumble on a sidewalk. I did enjoy the repeated revelation I caught on people's faces if they caught site of me before I passed them. I would watch their eyes fall on me, and then to my bike. They would glance at the bike and notice something off. It was the tire, it wobbled because it was bent. They would see this wobble and then see the bent rim and then look back to me. I would see their face light up as they say the blood dripping down my leg. It was a pretty nasty flesh wound. It looked bad but it wasn't serious or deep just large. They would jump up and say something regarding my damaged state.
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