I finally bought a bicycle today. I know everyone gets a bicycle in China, but this is a big step for me, so I'll take a few minutes to pat myself on the back here.
The last time I rode a bicycle, I crashed into 2 random dudes on Venice beach, broke the bike I was borrowing, and this weird pool of blood started swelling under my skin. Don't worry, eventually I poked it with a needle and it's all good now.
The time before that, I almost fell off the Golden Gate bridge. Thank god they have a fence up. Presumably for people like me who are all like, "Let's ride a bicycle over the Golden Gate!" and then realize that, nope, I can't ride a bicycle.
The time before that, I went riding face-first into a tree.
You guys, it has not been a smooth ride. (Badum, CHING.)
And now, I am in China. People here think traffic lights are just colorful accessories for the road, and human lives are not even worth the effort to keep count. This plus my bike-riding skills = bad news.
Right off the bat, I made some mistakes. Rolling my bike out of the supermarket, I looked at the handlebars and realized I had no bell. Therefore I have to always make sure that my throat is sufficiently lubricated to yell out "Outta my way, bitches!" whenever some dumb slow pedestrian walk smack into the bike lane for no reason and just turns and stares blankly at me as I crash into their face.
When my friend showed up to teach me how to properly ride a bike, I realized there are a lot of other things I'm missing, including: gloves, gears, some strappy things, and a mega-watted light that shines straight into North Korea. So we hop on and the dude spots me from behind and blocks overzealous cab drivers from rolling straight over me.
2/3 of the way to our destination, from behind me I hear his bell ringing for our lives as pedestrians continue to wander blankly into the bike lane. Then I hear "Oh, shit." The bell fell off.
I immediately fly over a huge curb.
Hours later, everyone was all like, "Noooooo!" when I announced I was going to ride my bicycle home, at midnight, with no lights. I bid farewell to everyone. Sent my will to my mom over my iPhone. Before I even got both feet off the ground, I fell over a curb. The beer and champagne I just drank did not help. But I lived. And it was awesome. Except for this one old man who tried to spite me, but whatever.
Here's the thing, you guys. I was born a total coward. It's in my blood. I look at my mom and her mom and I think, god, I am never going to live like that, constantly fearful of everything and spending my entire life trying to live the most stable life possible. Sometimes, blood must be shed. When people keep telling you you're going to die, you just have to down a beer and let the blurry judgment push you along until you hit that finish line.
Don't take any advice from me, kids. You should, but don't.
The last time I rode a bicycle, I crashed into 2 random dudes on Venice beach, broke the bike I was borrowing, and this weird pool of blood started swelling under my skin. Don't worry, eventually I poked it with a needle and it's all good now.
The time before that, I almost fell off the Golden Gate bridge. Thank god they have a fence up. Presumably for people like me who are all like, "Let's ride a bicycle over the Golden Gate!" and then realize that, nope, I can't ride a bicycle.
The time before that, I went riding face-first into a tree.
You guys, it has not been a smooth ride. (Badum, CHING.)
And now, I am in China. People here think traffic lights are just colorful accessories for the road, and human lives are not even worth the effort to keep count. This plus my bike-riding skills = bad news.
Right off the bat, I made some mistakes. Rolling my bike out of the supermarket, I looked at the handlebars and realized I had no bell. Therefore I have to always make sure that my throat is sufficiently lubricated to yell out "Outta my way, bitches!" whenever some dumb slow pedestrian walk smack into the bike lane for no reason and just turns and stares blankly at me as I crash into their face.
When my friend showed up to teach me how to properly ride a bike, I realized there are a lot of other things I'm missing, including: gloves, gears, some strappy things, and a mega-watted light that shines straight into North Korea. So we hop on and the dude spots me from behind and blocks overzealous cab drivers from rolling straight over me.
2/3 of the way to our destination, from behind me I hear his bell ringing for our lives as pedestrians continue to wander blankly into the bike lane. Then I hear "Oh, shit." The bell fell off.
I immediately fly over a huge curb.
Hours later, everyone was all like, "Noooooo!" when I announced I was going to ride my bicycle home, at midnight, with no lights. I bid farewell to everyone. Sent my will to my mom over my iPhone. Before I even got both feet off the ground, I fell over a curb. The beer and champagne I just drank did not help. But I lived. And it was awesome. Except for this one old man who tried to spite me, but whatever.
Here's the thing, you guys. I was born a total coward. It's in my blood. I look at my mom and her mom and I think, god, I am never going to live like that, constantly fearful of everything and spending my entire life trying to live the most stable life possible. Sometimes, blood must be shed. When people keep telling you you're going to die, you just have to down a beer and let the blurry judgment push you along until you hit that finish line.
Don't take any advice from me, kids. You should, but don't.
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