That’s what a naked guy on a bicycle said to me when I was driving home the other day, and got stuck beside an endless procession of naked people on bikes. The purpose of the ride seemed to be nudity awareness of one sort or another.
I drove slowly alongside them for about 20 minutes. A cry I heard at several points: “Injury! Injury!”
I needed to turn right and even put on my blinker for a tiny second, but turned it off because I was too scared. Yes, it seems that being confronted by the reality of the human body can be a frightening experience!
No! Not really. Their wobbly ranks just kept a-comin’, and I didn’t want to disturb them on “their day.” After all the wrongs inflicted by society. (But now I’m wondering, wouldn’t it have been more respectful to attempt a right turn? It would have given them a chance to confront some of the problems they will encounter if they wish to make this a permanent feature of our roads).
They were also really quite wobbly. Once, in high school, I was driving along and suddenly the entire opposite lane was being taken up by a bike race. I looked at one guy who was a little wobbly and thought, “I wonder if he would fall into this lane if he crashed,” and one second later he fell down, slid into my lane, and I drove over the rear wheel of his bike. Everyone else started crashing, too, and I saw one guy bike over another guy’s head.
I pulled over and the police arrived immediately and when I got the chance to talk to them, I said, “I think I ran one guy’s bike over.”
“Was your vehicle damaged?” they asked. It wasn’t so I went on my way. But I always remembered how long it had taken to finally get to talk to them, and I also always remembered that I hadn’t gotten any trouble. I resolved that if I ever found myself in a similar situation again, I would just do a hit and run.
Not that I necessarily wanted it to get to that point. And as wobbly as that one racer had been, these nakeds were far wobblier, so I decided to do an illegal u-turn instead. But as soon as I did, I heard sirens and saw policemen on motorcycles in my rear view mirror. I was scared – and mad at myself! I should have done that damn hit and run while I had the chance.
But they sped past me and then they started zooming in and out and around the naked riders, whipping them with their sharpened police whips.
That’s all I have to say for now. I guess I’m still trying to sort through what this experience meant to me.