My friend, who rides a Kawasaki, was on his way back to school when a European motorist in a rental car rammed into him, sending him flying into an intersection.
My friend sat stunned in veering cars for about 10 seconds. He proceeded to pick himself, his ripped shorts, his skidded Nikes and his cracked, damaged bike up and wheeled them all to the side. He continued his text conversation with me without devolving to hysterics, calmly filled out an accident report only because the motorist insisted, and then, with three layers of skin left smeared on the pavement, limped away.
No legalities, no excess of claims, no whining that he was scarred for life. Even though it was the other guy's fault. Even though 2% of his body will be forever affixed to the street outside the cornerstone building of the Tribeca Film Festival.
My friend is a badass. But is it wrong to wish, and I mean really wish, that the next time I have a fender bender, I hit him?
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1 comment:
No. I'd love to hit him.
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