But Call Me Betsy

I am not sure if I mentioned that Dan got my a bicycle for my birthday in May. It's a sixteen speed Schwinn that he bought in Kopp's Bicycle Shop. We've taken it out a few times, because we have a long trail behind our house that leads all the way into Plainsboro. One of the first times we took it out, we were riding on the sidewalk and came up against a dad with his baby in a stroller. I was in the lead, and the other times this had happened on the ride, Dan went into the grass to avoid the people, so I did the same. Of course, I choose the section of grass that was actually a deep hole. The wheel stuck in the hole, and I flew headfirst over the handlebars and landed on my face in the spongy grass. No injuries, except that I felt stupid and also, I swallowed some grass. The next day, we went on another ride and I managed to not avoid a giant branch jutting over the sidewalk and so scrapped it with my arm, which caused a giant gash and a dark bruise that I showed to who...

This morning, I was happily walking out of Black & Brew with my coffee when I saw a girl on a bicycle tipped over on 10th Street, just past the Pub on Passyunk. Apparently, this guy parked on the side of the street, opened his car door without looking and knocked her off her bike. He jumped out of the car, this fat old guy with a pot belly and white hair, and the first thing he did was to examine his car door to make sure it wasn't scratched. This is while the girl is still lying on the road. She stood up. The girl had on her bike helmet and was wearing hospital scrubs, obviously on her way to work. She wasn't bleeding or anything, but she was scraped up. He pointed his finger at her, yelling, "I wouldn't care if I killed you! I wouldn't care if you were dead! Watch where your going, you fuck!" I said, "Dude, are you serious? Are you seriously saying that out loud? I saw what happened. It's not her fault." (I actually didn't see what happ...