Cab doors can kill you
One would think that after being hit by one cab in the Fall of last year that I would have learned to be wary of those yellow beasts, but low and behold, I've gone and gotten hit again. I should clarify that in this instance I actually hit the cab, not the other way around. I was riding my bike to work at 8AM this morning and was cruising on 8th Ave when some blue suited smug and oblivious business man opened a cab door in front of me. I only had a second to hit the breaks and it wasn't enough--I ran into the open door and flew over the handle bars, landing with quite the dramatic thud and roll into the street. People rushed out to make sure I was alive and as fate would have it an EMT was on the corner and came over to ensure I was able to wiggle my fingers and toes. The business man only stayed around long enough to see that I wasn't going to die and took off, as did the cab. I stood up, dusted myself off, fixed the chain on the bike and got back on and as I rode away a woman yelled after me "Lance would be proud of you, honey!" Maybe he would be, but I was pretty shaken and mortified. Now I'm sitting at my desk at work, my office door closed and my skirt hiked up to my waist, icing the most disgusting bruise I've seen since that time I fell down in the bathtub in Spain. My elbow has a gorgeous little raspberry on it, my ass hurts like hell, I've an almost intolerable headache despite 4 Advil and I can't wait to ride home.
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