Hey Mom? I kinda got hit by a car the other day...

I figured it's been a while since I had a post that's purely for amusement. My first assignment in my Expository Writing class at Good Times Community College was to write about an anecdote. Anything interesting, funny, or peculiar that has happened to us. Having difficulty thinking of anything about me that encompasses any of those three adjectives, I turned to the guidance of Jenna Caroline Neely and she reminded me of this funny little story that happened just a few weeks ago. I suppose it covers all the bases of the assignment. Anyways, here ya go, I guess.





I woke up that morning, ate my usual breakfast of three or four bowls of Apple Jacks, and stood out on the front porch, enjoying a cup of strong coffee, and watching the sunrise. Noticing that it was an exceptionally nice day, and that I had no plans until work at five that evening, I decided to go for a bike ride- something I love to do, but hadn’t had time to do in a while.
So I hopped on my bike, and started heading on down Hilltop Road. Everything was going great- I hadn’t had any huge tractor trailers whizz by be, almost knock me off my bike, hadn’t gotten unbearably tired, and there still wasn’t a cloud in sight. That is, until I got to Guilford College Road. I got my green light and began to pass through the intersection, but there was a huge white construction van in the middle lane, blocking my view of the far right lane and, subsequently, rendering me invisible to anyone in that lane. A car came blazing through the intersection at full speed, ran the red light and then saw me. I squeezed my brake levers as hard as I could, but wasn’t quite able to stop in time and my front tire was hit by the car. I went down, screamed some unintentional obscenities, and moved my bike over to the side of the road so that it wouldn’t get run over and further damaged. I hobbled on over to where the guy had pulled over, just on the other side of the intersection and made sure that his car wasn’t damaged by the accident. He apologized about a million times, made sure I wasn’t injured, apologized some more, and we went our separate ways. I figured there wasn’t any need to call the police, since no serious injuries or property damage had been done, so I fixed my twisted handlebars and continued my ride.
I got about twenty feet down the road when I realized I should probably call someone and tell them I got hit by a car, so I tried to call my dear friend Eric Robert Finch, but he was driving, so his dad picked up. I was already confused by Finch sounding a lot more like his dad than usual, so it was a complete shock when the guy in the white construction van pulled up next to me, got out, and started screaming at me. He said I’d let the other guy off the hook, and I was letting him get away by not calling the police. Not knowing what to do, I hung up on Papa Finch, and tried to calm this man down and assure him that I was alright, as was my bicycle and the other man’s car. Dissatisfied, he shook his head, got back in his car, and drove off.
I’m not sure if this story has any sort of moral, purpose, or underlying meaning other than the fact that my life is ridiculous and not one thing about this story is surprising that it happened to me.