Work Stories: Episode 27: A Boy and His Bicycle

Previously on Work Stories I told you about that time when I saw Spandy Andy hanging out around work.  It was a huge surprise to me when that happened.  I hope you liked that story.  This week I have something else for you that I hope will quench the thirst that you must be having for a new Work Story.  Here we go.

When I worked at the hotel, I used to ride my bike to work all the time.  I sort of described this when I talked about seeing the car accident on my way home.  I didn’t have a licence at the time, so riding a bike was the best way for me to get to work.  It was only a fifteen or twenty minute ride, so I didn’t mind it at all.  It also gave me some exercise.  That’s a good thing.  I don’t get enough exercise anymore.  But that’s a different story for a different time.  This is about riding my bike to work.

The route of my bike riding was going through the residential areas of the city to the tourism district.  Then I would try to go down as many side streets as possible before getting on the busy hill that led directly to my work.  This way, I would avoid the busy streets that are filled with people and cars.  I would have a clear path to my work.  Or, I should say, I would get as clear a path as possible.

This is where we get to the small event that I’m describing today.  I’m going to have to take a slight detour at one point just to reiterate, but I’m almost there.  About four fifths of the way to the hotel, I had to go onto a main street for one block in order to get onto another street that would give a more direct street to work.  This is the area in which the event happened.

Now for the detour I mentioned earlier.  I went through a few bikes throughout the years.  One of my bikes got stolen.  That’s another story that I will likely write about at a later date.  Then I had the one I was riding at the time of the event.  This was one of my favourite bikes that I’ve had.  It was a Honda.  I’ve never seen another Honda bicycle.  I’m not sure about what happened to it, but I think the incident might have something to do with the disappearance of it.  The one problem with my red, Honda bicycle that I loved so much was that the brakes on it were horrible.

You can sort of see where I’m going with this, right?  This paragraph should be able to bring the whole “story” to an end.  I was riding as fast as I could to get to work on time.  I was at the spot where I have to go over one block, and I was making that transition from street to street.  I passed a restaurant on the busy street just as someone was exiting.  I slammed on the handle brakes, but they barely worked.  Boom!  I hit the person.  They started yelling at me, of course.  The cowardly teenager that I was, I decided to pick up my bike and hurry my ass away.  I don’t know what that person is doing now.  He definitely was not injured by the collision, but he was angry.  If you are out there reading this, person that I hit outside of that restaurant, I am sorry.  Though, I didn’t say the restaurant or the street, and you probably don’t remember what the person or the bike looked like.  So you probably don’t know that it’s me.  But I am sorry.  I should have been more careful.

That’s the story of the time when I hit someone with my bike.  I think that was some alright writing.  The story itself might not have been that great though.  I hope you enjoyed that.  I’m sure that if you read that, you just enjoy reading my writing.  I thank you for that, and I’ll be glad to have you reading again next week, when I bring you another in a long line of Work Stories.

Until then, good afternoon, good evening, and good night.