2:55pm
i'm leaving 315 Bay st. after meeting up with 50 to hand him a job going north that's got more than an hour left. I'm headed to 235 Mo, to grab a job going to the heights along with two others i have on board. One of the jobs is due at 1600 Webster at 3:33pm. I cut up Grant st, hang a soft left onto southbound columbus, and i'm off. Columbus gets quick once you get over the hump. I made the green going thru broadway, and split the lane to get out in front of the pack. As i'm approaching the 3-way intersection of Columbus/Montgomery/Washington, i still have the green and continue thru with the right of way. As i'm about 10-12 yards out from the intersection, red pickup makes an illegal right hand turn from southbound montgomery onto washington - directly in my path. I realize that collision is the only way this scenario is going to play out... i lock up the brakes and skid into his passenger door, using my entire left side (bike and body) to take the brunt. I didn't fall, but i stopped fast and it felt like it. SO i proceed to get the guy to stop - he did - and pull over - he did. I lean my bike up against the grill on his bumper and approach the window. It's an 80 year old chinese guy, and he can't understand what i'm saying. oh, and right around when i was directing jerkface to pull over, meatball blasted the intersection behind me, laughing and pointing and seriously loving it.
/rant
When that guy (meatball) cracked his skull on five separate occasions during work over teh course of the first year he lived here, i was there for him every time. Everytime he passed out wasted on Bart and woke up in Pittsburgh/Bay Point or Fremont with no ride home, i was the first one he'd call, even though i didn't have a car. I've bailed out meatball more times than i can remember, and he hates me for reasons unknown to me...i think onetime he said he hated me because of my relationship with my ex gf. This is the same guy who, after he was kicked out of the house we lived in for being a constant asshole, called my ex to talk shit and lie about me (how i have STD's...WTF?! who would make up tha stuff?!) and convince her of all of these reasons why she and i are broken up....the thing is, she already knew everything he was trying to "expose" about me....and she remains one of my closest friends to this day. This is the same guy who once caused our roommate's friend to storm out of the house in hysterics, sobbing and in tears because he proceeded to tell her that "it's all the Jews fault".... Same guy who is outwardly racist - in the midst of one of our "lively discourses" he screamed at me about how white men are the devil and consciously keep everyone "down"....but he's white himself. This is the same guy who, when confronted and humiliated in public by someone he owed $150 to (call him Frank), decided to focus his rage on ME by screaming about how i conspired with "Frank" about where he was....meatball's debt to Frank - who did him a solid favor by giving him a bike frame when he crashed his own - had nothing to do with me. The fact that that person called him out in front of a dozen people at the statue had nothing to do with me. Anyone who wants to, can find meatball anytime of the day between the hours of 8am to 5:30pm: at the statue drinking sparks with a spliff. This is the same roommate that will break your shit and not pay you back for it. This is the same roommate that will just come into your room without asking and look for stuff. This is the same roommate that will be happy to smoke all of your ganja but never share any of his own. This is the same roommate who will leave angry little notes everywhere. Bottom of the barrel, scumbag bike messenger who doesn't accept responsibility for anything or any shit situation he creats. He hates anyone that's got anything nice in their life, because he's convinced himself that he's lower than anyone else. The world is out to get him, and he loves to play the victim. On two separate occasions that i know of in Chicago, he instigated a fist-fight, got popped in the nose, and immediately called the cops. it's weak-ass pussy-shit. it must be tough doing 15 tags a day, all of which are between 111 pine and 265 mo. I must admit i am much better off without that character in my life.
/end rant
Anyways, back to the wreck at hand. A big huge security officer came running out of 655 Mo, yelling "I'm a cyclist, i saw it happen," etc. etc. and he starts jotting down info, and says he's going to flag down an officer. I continue to ask the driver about insurance or ID, and i'm getting nowhere because "he doesn't speak english". At this point, i'm almost convinced that i'm not going to get anywhere, and consider venting by introducing my u-lock to his headlights and taking off....but by then the security guard had flagged down a DPT meter maid, who came over and checked it out. He he some radioing back and forht, and tells me that the only way to get PD over here quick is by saying ssomeones injured... although i had never said if i was hurt. EMTs and cops come, and i copy down all of the guys info. Thank fucking god/allah/buddha/krishna this guy has a current policy with State Farm!
EMT checks me out, they confirm that, yes, i'm okay. Cops come, i show them what's wrong /broken on my bike, and they attempt to get a translator. Cop realizes i'm trying to get back to work, and lets me go after getting all my information.
Another positive interaction with SF's Finest, one rattled skull and no broken bones....makes for another day on the lines. The weather was freakin' amazing too!
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
one of those days.
So two sundays ago, my work bike was stolen from taco bell. we were reunited after 45 minutes, but not before i scoured my lovely neighborhood after dark in the rain. Good story for another time. I followed a trail of clues which led me to the culprit.
But no, no, today i am writing because of work, and the happenings of my day, today while at work, as a courier / bike messenger in SF.
Started out the day, went on a run to District Court that was bringing me back to base in the Mission. I'm jamming southbound down the bikelane on polk, looking to cross market onto 10th, then make a zig and a zag to get onto Folsom to get to 18th. Before i get to polk, this jackass in a fancy car gets too close for comfort to me and crosses the line, so i let him know. He didn't appreciate my gesture, i had already moved on and was across market, clear in front. Out of nowhere, this lightweight object strikes me (or the oversize flats sticking out of the top of my bag), and the jackass rips past me again. he had thrown something at me, which turns out to be a coke can. I get hot and pursue (i never know what i'm going to do when i catch up), but we have all of the green lights on 10th, and he gets onto I-80. I knew it was a coke can because once i got back to base, coke was splattered on the outside of the package.
That's just to start the day.
Mid afternoon, things are starting to jump a bit.i'm coming up 3rd street thru SOMA, aiming for 2 picks at 201 3rd, then onto 49 Geary for another pick. i make the 201 3rd picks, now i'm cranking north on 3rd in the right lane. As i cross Jesse Alley, before i get to Stevenson alley and Market street, this jerkface in the far left lane in front of the Westin decides to step on it and cross three lanes of traffic in order to get to Stevenson alley. He does this and very nearly crushes me in the process. I obligatorily yell at him and suggest he take driving lessons. He then proceeds to deride me about how i'm a Big Man with my Toy, etc etc. Fuck. This is where i have a problem - i get hot. I've never gotten hot enough to punch someone, i'll wait for the firs tpunch and then end it. But this douche gets under my skin somehow. As he's stopped just inside Stevenson and jawing with me, i pull up to his rear, driver-side and we continue our discourse. Fuck it, i'm done - i left a love tap (with key in palm) on the rear quarterpanel. Not too hard, palm slap for effect.
This is where i need to learn how to get away better.
So after i slapped his truck, dude blows UP. I'm scrambling to turn around and get away, but i didn't quite get my footing as i turned around, and all of a sudden this huge guido hulk has got me by the right shoulder tomahawk patch on my Hawks jersey and won't let go. Oh, it's on now. We start bellowing at eachother, he's trying to call the cops, i key up on the radio in case i get knocked the fuck out, at least my co workers will hear it. this guy was GIANT and wasn't letting me go. Meanwhile a crowd is gathering on the corner of Stevenson and third. I'm not paying so much attention to them, but it seems i have their support - someone other than me saw that dickface drive like shit. So i'm on my horse, dude's got me by the right shoulder. No way i'm going to punch the guy, but he's restraining me and i'm pissed.
Out of nowhere comes this decrepit little cracky bum. he gets right up to me on my left side and starts going on about how he saw what happened, and that I am in the wrong, yadda yadda yadda. I tell him to STFU, he keeps going on, and i give him a forearm shiver with my left (free) arm, shoving him back about 5 feet, and i turn my attention back to the matter at hand.
Cracky-bum comes back at me on my left side. This time, he says "dont fuck with me, you wouldn't want to get this" and with that, he has something in his palm that he's about to stab/slice/needle me with and is making the move to slice my upper left arm.
Fuck this. I woudl have dealt with Hulk somehow, but this Cracky-bum exacerbated the situation and i decided i needed to do more to get the fuck out. As cracky-bum is moving the move to me, my left arm cocks back and i wallop this fool on the side of his skullet. To my surprise and joy, at the exact same time Hulk lets go of my jersey - i don't know what it was, but i heard someone in the crowd just yelling "get outta here man, ride!" I didn't need to hear that to know. I took off east down stevenson, turning left at Annie (knowing it ends at a plaza before meeting Market st.). I didn't want to stay on the street for fear of being run over. i try to jump the high curb off of Annie onto the Plaza, but i endo'ed, nearly bailed, and threw my chain. I picked my ride up and ran into the nearst store, a bakery, and took off my helmet and jersey, effectivly changing costumes.
and there's more, but not as exciting. after that i gather up a court run, head out Mission st, turn right onto 7th. I'm coming up 7th twds market, and there's a caddy in the middle lane, stopped. I see the passenger side door start to open as i'm approaching the rear of the car, and with my left hand (while yelling) throw it closed (well, less open, at least.). I cross market and merge onto mcallister, and while i'm crossing hyde another jerkface turns left in front of me (turning into my forward direction) but does so from HIS far right lane. Arrrgh! I have had enough of idiots today. So while i make sure HE doesn't hit me (by yelling of course) i'm momentarily distracted. I'm infront of 35o McAllister (my destination) and my right hand knuckles graze (loudly) a drivers side mirror of a parked car, and just my luck the owner is near by. He yells at me like that wasnt' what he needed to end his day. I didn't need it either. I rode around to the other side of the block and went in through the back.
But no, no, today i am writing because of work, and the happenings of my day, today while at work, as a courier / bike messenger in SF.
Started out the day, went on a run to District Court that was bringing me back to base in the Mission. I'm jamming southbound down the bikelane on polk, looking to cross market onto 10th, then make a zig and a zag to get onto Folsom to get to 18th. Before i get to polk, this jackass in a fancy car gets too close for comfort to me and crosses the line, so i let him know. He didn't appreciate my gesture, i had already moved on and was across market, clear in front. Out of nowhere, this lightweight object strikes me (or the oversize flats sticking out of the top of my bag), and the jackass rips past me again. he had thrown something at me, which turns out to be a coke can. I get hot and pursue (i never know what i'm going to do when i catch up), but we have all of the green lights on 10th, and he gets onto I-80. I knew it was a coke can because once i got back to base, coke was splattered on the outside of the package.
That's just to start the day.
Mid afternoon, things are starting to jump a bit.i'm coming up 3rd street thru SOMA, aiming for 2 picks at 201 3rd, then onto 49 Geary for another pick. i make the 201 3rd picks, now i'm cranking north on 3rd in the right lane. As i cross Jesse Alley, before i get to Stevenson alley and Market street, this jerkface in the far left lane in front of the Westin decides to step on it and cross three lanes of traffic in order to get to Stevenson alley. He does this and very nearly crushes me in the process. I obligatorily yell at him and suggest he take driving lessons. He then proceeds to deride me about how i'm a Big Man with my Toy, etc etc. Fuck. This is where i have a problem - i get hot. I've never gotten hot enough to punch someone, i'll wait for the firs tpunch and then end it. But this douche gets under my skin somehow. As he's stopped just inside Stevenson and jawing with me, i pull up to his rear, driver-side and we continue our discourse. Fuck it, i'm done - i left a love tap (with key in palm) on the rear quarterpanel. Not too hard, palm slap for effect.
This is where i need to learn how to get away better.
So after i slapped his truck, dude blows UP. I'm scrambling to turn around and get away, but i didn't quite get my footing as i turned around, and all of a sudden this huge guido hulk has got me by the right shoulder tomahawk patch on my Hawks jersey and won't let go. Oh, it's on now. We start bellowing at eachother, he's trying to call the cops, i key up on the radio in case i get knocked the fuck out, at least my co workers will hear it. this guy was GIANT and wasn't letting me go. Meanwhile a crowd is gathering on the corner of Stevenson and third. I'm not paying so much attention to them, but it seems i have their support - someone other than me saw that dickface drive like shit. So i'm on my horse, dude's got me by the right shoulder. No way i'm going to punch the guy, but he's restraining me and i'm pissed.
Out of nowhere comes this decrepit little cracky bum. he gets right up to me on my left side and starts going on about how he saw what happened, and that I am in the wrong, yadda yadda yadda. I tell him to STFU, he keeps going on, and i give him a forearm shiver with my left (free) arm, shoving him back about 5 feet, and i turn my attention back to the matter at hand.
Cracky-bum comes back at me on my left side. This time, he says "dont fuck with me, you wouldn't want to get this" and with that, he has something in his palm that he's about to stab/slice/needle me with and is making the move to slice my upper left arm.
Fuck this. I woudl have dealt with Hulk somehow, but this Cracky-bum exacerbated the situation and i decided i needed to do more to get the fuck out. As cracky-bum is moving the move to me, my left arm cocks back and i wallop this fool on the side of his skullet. To my surprise and joy, at the exact same time Hulk lets go of my jersey - i don't know what it was, but i heard someone in the crowd just yelling "get outta here man, ride!" I didn't need to hear that to know. I took off east down stevenson, turning left at Annie (knowing it ends at a plaza before meeting Market st.). I didn't want to stay on the street for fear of being run over. i try to jump the high curb off of Annie onto the Plaza, but i endo'ed, nearly bailed, and threw my chain. I picked my ride up and ran into the nearst store, a bakery, and took off my helmet and jersey, effectivly changing costumes.
and there's more, but not as exciting. after that i gather up a court run, head out Mission st, turn right onto 7th. I'm coming up 7th twds market, and there's a caddy in the middle lane, stopped. I see the passenger side door start to open as i'm approaching the rear of the car, and with my left hand (while yelling) throw it closed (well, less open, at least.). I cross market and merge onto mcallister, and while i'm crossing hyde another jerkface turns left in front of me (turning into my forward direction) but does so from HIS far right lane. Arrrgh! I have had enough of idiots today. So while i make sure HE doesn't hit me (by yelling of course) i'm momentarily distracted. I'm infront of 35o McAllister (my destination) and my right hand knuckles graze (loudly) a drivers side mirror of a parked car, and just my luck the owner is near by. He yells at me like that wasnt' what he needed to end his day. I didn't need it either. I rode around to the other side of the block and went in through the back.
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