One Way to Kick Off BlogHer. (I Don't Recommend It.)
I was doing exactly what I had been doing for the prior two hours--sitting. Not moving. Waiting (mostly) patiently.
While a born-and-raised New Yorker had told me it wouldn't take but thirty minutes to get from the Newark Airport to the Hilton where BlogHer was happening, he couldn't have known just how much the other New Yorkers would want to play bumper cars on a late Friday afternoon. I guess they couldn't find a carnival because they were playing bumper cars all over the roads.
As I sat waiting for traffic to clear from the third wreck of the 15-mile drive, I could see the hotel. If I would have had bigger pockets, I could have folded the car up, stuck it in my pocket, and walked there in less than five minutes. As it was, I was more stuck than Britney Spears' zipper after she shoved her ass in a pair of her old skinny days jeans.
Stuck. Stuck. Stuck.
According to the GPS, I had moved a mere 0.1 mile in over 20 minutes. At that exact moment, I wasn't even in gear. I had the emergency brake on and was checking tweets on my phone. I glanced up in the rear-view mirror just in time to see an impatient douchenugget in a red t-shirt start zooming through stopped cars aboard his bicycle. His long dark curls fluttered in the wind as he zig-zagged his way left and right. I couldn't decide whether to be jealous that he was getting through when I couldn't, or if I should hate him for the way he was moving erratically, without regard for the potential safety of pedestrians also cutting through the not-moving cars. I might have fleetingly thought about how stupid it was that he wasn't wearing a helmet as he rode at top speed.
Turns out I was kinda, sorta, um, -REALLY- right.
As he came up along the side of my car, I scowled. If he slipped and managed to leave so much as a scratch on Mr. Husband's car, I was going to be in trouble. As he rushed up parallel to the passenger door, time stopped. Frame-by-frame, the scene played out as I watched him in the mirror.
He turned his head to the left.
His left shoulder dropped slightly.
The narrow black strap on his backpack slooooowly fell.
Down.
Down.
Down.
The strap hung loosely near his elbow.
His right hand came up off the handle bars.
He slooooowly reached over to grab the loose strap.
AND *POW!*
Before his right hand could intervene, his backpack strap went to the left of the passenger side mirror while the rest of him cruised to the right. With a *SNAP!* the narrow strap froze in place as it wrapped around the mirror and then jerked him backwards.
Frame-by-frame, millisecond-by-millisecond, the bicyclist flew up into the air as his bike continued forwards. He flipped, completely lacking in grace as he came crashing down on his head, his feet splayed wildly straight up in the air.
Bright red blood appeared everywhere.
EVERYWHERE.
The police officer who had been standing just feet from my car handing out tickets to anyone illegally using the bus lane rushed over and began attending to the crumpled pile of human lying motionless in the road. Minutes later, an ambulance magically appeared out of nowhere.
An hour later, I finally continued on my way with the knowledge that the bicyclist was injured, but would be OK. The cop didn't think very highly of bicyclists cutting through traffic, but was still certainly very helpful. I had missed all of the Community Keynote, but there was certainly still lots of BlogHer remaining.
The car mirror was certainly in much better shape than the guy who tried to use it to kill himself.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Reader Comments (19)
And yeah, there is a special place for bicyclists and motorcycle riders that weave through traffic like that . . .
Okay, not really, but that would have made the story really cool.
@burghbaby - that's what he gets for being a douchecanoe.
I used to think bicycle helmets were so stupid (except for racers and bike messengers). I was annoyed with how our society seems to want to baby proof everything instead of teaching common sense.
Then I had kids. And my kids are not allowed to ride their bikes in our DRIVEWAY without their helmets, much less the sidewalk or street! HA!
I am still so jealous that you got to go! *sigh*
Oh, and this story reminded me of the one and only time I went to NY. I saw a pedestrian hit by a bus, and watched probably 30 people walk right past him. No one stopped to help him for the longest time. (I was on the other side of a busy street or I would have).
Hopefully BlogHer is enjoyable after you endured all that!
And, yes, douchenugget = win.
Glad he wasn't seriously injured. Sorry you had a rough start to blogher but hope it gets better from here.