Bejewell on June 11th, 2008

So, a few weeks ago I had this great idea to take the Bean to Sea World.  He’s been very into puppies and kitties lately, and I thought this was a good time to introduce him to the world of fish and sea mammals.  Shamu!  Who doesn’t love Shamu?

I suggested it to BFF and she, being as clueless as I am, agreed that it was a grrrrrrreat idea!  We made a plan to take our collective brood on the one weekend we could all get away.  She would drive her husband’s truck because it had more room to fit all of us. 

We left the menfolk at home.  I was so naïve I actually felt sorry for the Big Bean because he would miss out on Shamu and all of that Sea World fabulousness.

So when did we two Mom-slash-Geniuses plan this super-fabulous trip?  Why, Memorial Day weekend, of course!  When we could be sure that 500 would not only be the number of degrees it was outside, but also the number of people in line in front of us, and the average weight of the other people there (many in bikinis because of the adjacent water park – could it get any better?) and, of course, the price (in dollars) of a hot dog and soda. 

But that’s another post.  We never even made it to Sea World before the Incredibly Weird Thing happened.

BFF’s three-year-old daughter Princess G, currently potty training, felt the urgent urge of urgency somewhere between Austin and San Antonio.  So BFF pulled off of the highway onto a secluded (we thought) frontage road, just in front of a “Watch for Bikes” sign (you’ll understand the irony of that later), where Princess G did her beeswax into her portable potty. 

As Princess G dismounted from her throne in the back of the truck (yeah, we’re classy like that) a large group of bicyclists flew by.  Maybe twelve or so.  At Breakneck Speed. (I like saying “Breakneck Speed,” it sounds so dangerous and dramatic!)  I noted it was a good thing they hadn’t come along a minute or so sooner, or they would have gotten an eyeful of some family ‘gina.  BFF was not as amused as I was by that thought.

Princess G got back into her car seat and BFF stood at the door, buckling her in safely.  All of a sudden – BAM!!!

Out of nowhere, a stray bicyclist rammed into the open car door.  At Breakneck Speed.  He came within an inch or two of hitting BFF – if he’d just been a *little* to the right, we would have been at the hospital.

When I say out of nowhere, I mean Out. Of. Nowhere. It was like this guy had just dropped out of the sky- At Breakneck Speed.  An obscure Angel of Destruction sent by God to obliterate BFF’s husband’s truck’s back door. 

A few moments of silence while everyone absorbed what had just happened.  Then the Checking-to-See-if-Everyone’s-Okay routine.  Rogue Bicyclist explained that he was trying to catch up with the others and looking behind him at another car to make sure he wasn’t going to get hit.  He never even saw us there before he rammed into the door.   

After offering up this somewhat lame explanation, he moved to the back of the car, nursing his wounds and examining the extensive damage he had just done to his bike.

BFF had no idea what to do.  I mean, literally NO IDEA.  She got back in the driver’s seat and looked at me like I should somehow know.  “Don’t look at me,” I said.  “It’s not MY car.”  (I am a Very Good Friend.)

“Should we get his information?” BFF asked.  I didn’t know the answer to that question.  It’s not like you can really ask for license and registration, or his insurance card. 

The dude was on a BIKE, for Pete’s sake.  Bike shorts don’t really have pockets for insurance cards.  I did say, however, that we should probably offer him a ride somewhere. 

So BFF got out and awkwardly asked Rogue Bicyclist if he needed a ride.  He said he didn’t (although he really did – that bike was seriously jacked up.  BFF said okay, trying not to sound relieved but actually sounding really relieved, and shut the back door to leave.  Except the car door was bent.  Really bent.  It shut (sort of), but it now started to dawn on BFF that this damage would have to be repaired.  Which meant telling BFF’s husband what happened.  Which meant BFF’s husband getting angry and superior and whiny about His Stuff.  (Another post about Men and Their Stuff soon to follow.)

Regardless of this new realization, right now BFF just wanted to get the fuck out of Dodge, so she hopped into the driver’s seat and we sped away.  At Breakneck Speed. 

Rogue Bicyclist appeared smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror as we drove on. Poor, poor Rogue Bicyclist, with his broken bike, no shoes except bicycle cleats, and all of his information – name, phone number, insurance carrier – on the side of the road with him, destined to remain a mystery to us forever.

Just as Rogue Bicyclist became tinier than a speck of dust in my sideview mirror, I started to laugh.  BFF started to laugh.  We laughed, and laughed hard. 

It was probably some combination of shock and awe and worry over what BFF’s husband would do and the fact that she could have been KILLED by the Angel of Truck Door Destruction.  But also, it was funny!  I mean, this was the most RANDOM thing I have ever experienced in my life.  What were the freaking chances?  That Princess G would need to go at THAT particular time. That we would pull over in THAT particular place. That Rogue Bicyclist would have fallen behind his pack at THAT point in their journey, looking behind him, instead of eyes front, at THAT particular moment. 

For whatever reason, the universe wanted this to happen.  It’s like those Dutch fishermen, out in the middle of the ocean, killed when a giant whale (Shamu!!) just happened to rise up out of the water, lifting their boat and tossing it downwards into the sea.  It was just their time to go. 

And on this day, on the way to Sea World, it was just BFF’s husband’s truck’s door’s time to go.

So we laughed. The kids thought we were nuts.  Tears streamed down our faces.  We laughed until we could laugh no more.  And then it was time for Sea World Fun.

Cut to the next day.  I text messaged (I’m so technologically advanced) BFF to see how BFF’s husband took the news.  Not well, it turns out.  He was angry.  Very angry.

Something happened to his Stuff.  And he was not there to witness it.  And BFF did not have the sense to get Rogue Bicyclist’s information.  (I have to admit, this is a bit ironic, since BFF is an insurance adjuster by trade.)

He yelled.  He cursed.  He made the rest of her weekend very unhappy.  She was upset because he was upset.  I was upset because she was upset.  Big Bean was upset because I was upset.  Everyone = upset.

Just before BFF’s husband started to come to his senses, realizing that it was not the end of the world, he said to her, “I bet you and your Very Good Friend thought this was all really funny, didn’t you?  You probably laughed all the way to Sea World.”

Deer in the headlights, BFF said, “Of course not!  There was nothing funny about this!  It was all very serious! What kind of example do you think I would set for the kids?”  Then she called me and swore me to secrecy.

Isn’t that funny? 

  • Share/Bookmark
Stumble it!


No Responses to “The Rogue Bicyclist Attack”

  1. this is amazing! I love it! And yes, it is very funny!

  2. That was awesome. I love so many things about this story. First, I can completely relate to the necessary stop as we just took a major road trip with our recently potty-trained imp…secondly, I like to ride my bike for exercise and after hitting a doberman pincer, I wouldn’t put it past me to hit a truck…thirdly, does anybody really know the protocol for handling situations such as that? chill out, BFF husband…and finally, that’s great that you guys were able to laugh about it.

    I also thoroughly enjoyed your demonstration of the versatilitiy of the # 500.

  3. Wow, thanks for the laugh! I am still recovering from hitting a “parked” 2005 Neon, 2 weeks ago tomorrow. Ow, what the hell, I only looked down for a second to check if my headlight was on and BLAM.

    Dammit. Ribs still hurt, new mirror for the car was $170, even did a trip to the ER, the only consolation is the Oxycodone. Oh what the hell, I recently started riding bicycles again and am riding much more carefully now.

    Thanks for the story,

  4. Oh, man! I hope that guy was ok. What a weird thing! A truck is just a truck, right? I’m glad no one was hurt in the making of your blog post. But still, Sea World on Memorial Day? Yikes! That’s enough hurt right there…

  5. kelseylouise – Thanks for stopping by! Glad you got a laugh! It always makes me happy to find humor in the misfortunes of others, and I can only hope to bring that joy to my readers, as well.

    Allison – The doberman pincer thing made me snort Dr. Pepper out of my nose.

    Steve – Are you the one who found my blog with the search engine term “bicyclists how to get back at cars”? If so, I think Rogue Bicyclist got back at our car well enough for all of you. $1000 in damage, and that was just the deductible! And since we didn’t get the guy’s information (BFF’s husband’s biggest beef about all of this, and a pretty legitimate one), it comes out of their pocket.

    In fairness, though, BFF’s husband just spent at least that on a new HD flat screen television without telling her first, so there is plenty of beef to go around.

    Seriously, hope you’re on the mend soon. Happy biking!

    Ms ~m – I’m pretty sure he was okay, unless there were internal injuries we didn’t know about. We certainly didn’t hang out long enough to find out. I don’t know why but we were both just desperate to leave as soon as we possibly could. I think we left skid marks.

    And yeah, we really weren’t thinking too clearly when we planned that trip. Never again. Never, never, never. I don’t care how loudly Shamu (Shamu! I Love You!) might be calling my name.

  6. Man, you’re lucky the cyclist wasn’t hurt, let alone your friend! My mother met a man recently who was doing 40k (don’t know what that is in miles, maybe double it?) in a bike lane when a parked truckie opened his door without looking, and the bloke slammed straight into it. He broke his collarbone so badly that the bone was sticking up through his shirt, and he went on to need six months of therapy and three reconstructive operations. Eeesh!

    On t’other hand, I don’t know what it is about humanity, but some of the things we find funniest are near-accidents. It’s like when you’re a teenager doing stupid stuff, and it’s soooo freakin’ funny because you might die, but you don’t. Gotta love it. :)

  7. Oh my goodness!!!! I’ve GOT to share this with McDaddy…he is a cyclist and would SO appreciate this story!

    I want to know who was smart enough to get the picture of the sign?!!

    Thanks for stopping by to play POW! Don’t be a stranger!

  8. That is the BEST STORY EVER! I hope you don’t mind, but I MUST tell this to everyone I know. Fate at its best.

  9. Foz – I have a nervous habit of laughing in scary or uncomfortable situations, and BFF has a habit of laughing when I laugh. We were like hyenas in that car, I swear. The kids were scared.

    McMommy – I will take ALL of the credit for snapping that picture. I also got a good one of BFF squatting on the side of the road, but figured she might never forgive me if I actually posted that on the Internet, even on my little blog that hardly anyone reads (hint, hint).

    Mamasphere – Tell your friends, tell your enemies! Everyone should hear my cautionary tale!

    I’m so glad you guys stopped by and enjoyed it!

  10. Utterly hilarious! What were the chances of such mass drama? I hope one day BFF’s hubbie will be as amused as the rest of your readers!

  11. Really, this story is hilarious. Absolutely hysterical, and I want you to know that I am laughing while trying to write this, with actual tears.

  12. I love it – hysterical! I love when random things happen to me so that I have a great story to tell later and this one takes the cake for sure.

  13. Totally laughing out loud all the way through this post. And shaking quite a bit as I do it, since kiddlets are asleep & that’s what happens to me when I try to laugh quietly!

  14. Hi bejewell: that was my search. Yes I am on hte mend, my ribs are still hurting, I am sure that they are cracked, I am fine during the day, it is when I am sleeping that it starts hurting, have to lay just right.

    So back to that search. As luck would have it I had an @55hole in a krappy little boxster Porsche totally almost takes me out a week or two after my wreck. I was legally approaching an intersetion in a left turn lane, I had seen him coming up behind me and expected him to follow me through the turn. Well guess what, half way through that left hand turn in a REALLY busy intersection the this sub-human passes me on the right as we are both turning left. Well meet the Fockers! Windows are open on his car, I scream and yell and flip him off and what the hell does he do? Hit’s the brakes, I slam on mine, my wheels lock up and then he guns his P.O.S. boxster.

    Any ways I am over it, the best thing about my search is that I found you bike story and subsequent stories.

    Wow what a story you can tell.


Leave a Reply