Yeah, THANKS

Friday was Jenna's birthday.  I came home from work, while she went out with some co-workers and friends.  I put my bike in the trainer and exercised for a while, and did some maintenance.  As I was riding down Chestnut Street to join her group downtown, a taxi abruptly cut in front of me to pick up a party of merrymakers, no doubt also going downtown for Friday night's Saturnalian excesses.

This was deja vu for me.  Last August, a few blocks further East, exactly the same scenario had played out: a taxi swerved, without signalling, to get a fare.  I didn't have time to stop, and we collided as he pulled into the bike lane.  While I was picking myself up and assessing the damage, the driver pulled away, leaving me with a broken collarbone and no license plate number.

This time, instead of running smack into the side of the cab, I jammed my brake and went over the handlebars, splattering myself across the lane.  I got up, expounding profanely and at maximum volume on the repellent, reckless, and repugnant character of taxi drivers.  However, the driver stepped out of his car and asked me if I was hurt and needed help.  I told him he'd better damn well stick around while I figured it out.  I felt awful.  Everything hurt, but I chalked it up to scrapes and bruises.  Nothing seemed to be broken, and my bike, as far as I could tell in the dark, seemed fine besides the handlebars and stem getting turned on the steerer.  I apologized to the driver, who seemed like a genuinely nice, concerned fellow, and told him I was alright and he could go.  "Watch out for bikes," I said, lamely.

Apparently I don't learn lessons.  I locked my bike up where I fell, not having a hex set to re-set the handlebars, and caught a bus downtown.  I was feeling worse by the minute, and feeling pretty stupid that I hadn't taken down the taxi's license plate number when I had the chance.  You can never determine the extent of your injuries when your system is full of adrenaline.  I made it through the night with a latex glove full of ice pressed to my wrist.

I still don't think anything's broken, but my arms are pretty painful.  The bones got slammed back when I broke my fall on the asphalt.  I'm hoping it's just swelling.  I can't afford my insurance deductible, but at the moment I'm out of commission for just about any physical activity.

Always get a plate number.