RamenDays.com

So, last week a bike t-boned my car while I was driving at about 30-35 MPH. Let me clarify something – a bike as in a bicycle. Not a vroom, vroom here comes a dude in an all leather outfit Harley Davidson bike, but a pedal, pedal, huff and puff ten speed Lance Armstrong bike. To make a long story short, I was driving to work (or ‘youth stealing monster’ as I like to call it), when a most likely inebriated, handle bar mustache wearing hipster decides he would challenge the laws of the road, run a red light and crash directly into my back fender. The sound went “booooom!” and I went “ahhhhhhhh” and then somebody probably farted at some point. Was it him or me who released some gas? Only God would know. Probably God’s secretary too. Is it proper grammar to capitalize God? Anyhow…

Surprised I was. Not only because a bicyclist struck my vehicle, but because this guy flew over my car and did not have one broken bone or severe cut. He didn’t even puncture a hole through his skin tight, most likely vintage, hipster denim jeans. When I looked back, expecting to see limbs and blood everywhere, he was sitting on the curb throwing me the peace sign like, “I’m okay brosef. Nothing a little kiss from a Pabst Blue Ribbon can won’t heal”.

Words can’t describe this situation in full detail so here is my artistic rendition of what happened on this dreadful day. There wasn’t a Ninja Turtle there in real life, but in my mind there is always a Ninja Turtle present. Some people have guardian angels. I have a guardian Ninja Turtle. Besides, Ninja Turtles are way cooler than angels because they love pizza and I’m 99% sure that they smoke crazy amounts of weed. Seriously, Ninja Turtles traveled in a van and went out nude in public – like hippies. What kind of superheroes travel in a van butt naked? They were definitely puffin’ on that ganja. Cowabunga!

At this point it was about 11am. I had a tiny bit of adrenaline and shock circulating my system still and I felt like I had to share this experience with somebody to calm my nerves. So I texted my very talented-artist-neighbor-friend Annie Lou (AnnieLouWho.com) to see if she was in the ‘hood. As luck would have it, Annie Lou and her roomie, Anabel (also a very talented artist), were at the crib. I paid them a visit and bickeringly (bickeringly is not a real word, but damn it fits so well) told them my tale of early morning carnage. Now, I don’t know if my neighbors being women, spiritual, artsy, observant, great karaoke singers, cultured or just plain awesome attributed to their ability to make me feel like a bicyclist didn’t fly over my vehicle and put a sizable dent in it, but whatever the reason(s) was, I was feeling quite chipper when I left their place 15 minutes after I have arrived. And man, that sure was a nice little run-on sentence I just typed.

As much as I wanted to call it a day, I still had to make my way into work (or ‘soul eating thingamajig’ as I like to call it). In true very cool friend fashion, Annie Lou packed me up a lunch, I bid the ladies ado and off to work (or ‘the opposite of happiness’ as I like to call it) I went. Around 1:30pm I murdered the meal that Annie Lou had kindly made for me and after the dish was complete I felt like I was good ‘ol, weirdo Caleb once again.

Damn @ how a good talk and a good meal can soothe all wounds.

P.S. Have y’all ever wondered if people that use sign language have different accents? Like if somebody signs a certain way other sign language people can tell what region they are from. Hmmmmmmmm, intriguing.

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