We know he could blame it on the fact that we are living a shortage of Buspar at 1783 and that as a result he slept very little last night and HE WILL: but FHC lost a diesel camouflage flip flop in the middle of McPherson Square while riding his bike at 8:30 a.m. this morning creating a huge traffic jam and humiliating himself in front of hundreds of commuters getting out from the McPherson Square subway station. There were no personal injuries reported but the psychological scars run deep: the inanimate flip-flops work in mystifying ways:
At 8:25 a.m. I decide to engage myself in the intersection when the light turned orange for the cars on K Street, at 8:25:30, I might have cycled with too much enthusiasm and my flip flop jumped in the air and fell 3 feet behind while I was still moving on my bike. Pedestrians paused staring at my feet naked to all eyes. As my brain registered the unbelievable event, I thought for a moment of continuing as if I had not noticed anything leaving behind the ungrateful f**ker…after all it's only one flip-flop, a diesel one but still half a pair. But then I knew I would never forgive myself for such cowardice so at 8:25:45 I stopped the bike in the middle of the intersection blocking all incoming traffic, and started to look around to locate the missing flip flop. At 8:26:00 a.m., I felt hopeless, lonely and disgusted as the blocked car on 15th street began to honk, and a gigantic tourist bus coming from the left through the intersection came to a halt just above my flip-flop, a crowd of commuters (including Moslem pilgrims) massed on the sidewalk holding signs that said “F*ck you FHC, goody-two-shoe”, “You’ve ruined Christmas for us” and “go back home you fagg*t” and chanting loudly “Wednesday, bloody Wednesday” and a wall of satellite trucks appearing at the corner. At 8:26:15 car pulled in front of me and an obese commuter gesticulated at me as she was too illiterate to notice I had lost a shoe and thought that I was mentally challenged. Finally, I turned around, angrily grabbed the desperate flip-flop from under the bus at 8:26:50, lost my balance, fell from the bike and stumbled to the side walk. As I was now blocking the sidewalk, a black girl commented “Ain’t no prince for you giiiiiiirl, but at least you got both your flip-flops” and I noticed that even the street lights had an expression of contempt.
This is one of those events that FHC is too fragile to handle in an anxiety pills famine period: he made it to work very confused and then completely lost it in the locker room pressing his flip-flops to his heart sobbing while his colleagues were passing by him sneering. There are various morals to that story but mostly FHC’s accident reinforced the finding of generations of bike riders that nobody should ride his bike with flip-flops.
In blogorama…quickly…if you thought my Rash-Hashanah entry was impertinent…check out DClush.
Comments