Stories: Bikes and Benjos
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| Robert Heaton's hilarious benjo/bike story reminded me of one of my own (less hilarious, though I bet everyone has a benjo/bike story).
My story occurred in West KaoHsiung during heavy monsoon weather. We were coming home one night, pedaling hard against the wind and rain. There was about two inches of water on the road. As you can imagine, with that much water covering the road, the line between benjo ditch and road gets a little obscured. Well, my front tire found the point of obscurity and suddenly dropped about two feet with me toppling tail over head into the ditch. Other than a very sore shoulder and back, I was unscathed. Fortunately, there was enough water flowing that the even the stench was almost tolerable.
I had experienced a previous bike toppling in the East side of the same city, months earlier with my first companion. We were returning home one evening and had just picked up our suits from the dry cleaners. I was riding along, newly confident with both my new used bike (Bink) and the busy roads, holding my suit on a hanger with one hand and steering with the other. Then, I noticed the pants on the hanger were beginning to slip off. I reached with my driving hand, trying to keep the pants from falling, pedaling easily along with no hands, then ran headlong into the back end of a parked taxi. I never even saw it. The next thing I knew, I was somersaulting over the top of the taxi, sliding down across the hood and landing smoothly on my feet still holding my dry-cleaned suit, just like I'd planned it all along. The pants didn't even fall off the hanger. The bike? Nothing that a hammer couldn't fix. |
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