*miserychick is actually happy

In the split second just when I noticed the the taxi door opening, I imagined stopping and avoiding the crash all together, but then I let out a big loud “ooooouuuuuccchhh” and somehow my bike was knocked up to the sidewalk and I ended up on my ass. One leg was below the bike.

And all the sudden there was “omigoad are you ok?” “do you need help” “are you ok?”

There was a slight moment, so thin like the end of a split hair, that I had no idea what was happening. It wasn’t that I hit my head or anything, but I could have sworn I was really going to avoid that door. I looked around and inspected the bike and my limbs. Everything looked fine. I felt a scratch on my ankle, but nothing was hurting that much. I don’t know what a broken leg feels like, but I could feel all my toes. Must be ok. So I started to brush myself and got up.

But now there were three good Samaritans ready to help and the lady who opened that evil door who’s apologizing profusely and the worried cabbie who joined in on the echo – “are you ok?”

I figured the chorus was going to continue until I say something. So I managed to say something and then turn to the lady who’s now freaking out about how bad she feels and blurted “watch it’s next time”, wishing I had some better line prepared.

Luckily I wasn’t going very fast.  Cyclists getting doored can often result in very severe injuries, so thankfully I avoided that and a whole slew of headache that would follow with a more serious accident. “Just some bruises” I tell people.

This is what it looks like, 4 days later:

Posted on Monday, 10 August 2009 at 23:26 UTC