Further adventures in commuting
Oh, Holy Mary Mother of Irony I almost got run off the road today on my bicycle commute by an AMBULANCE! I was on Park Boundary Road, tooling along in my cool-breeze pacified reverie, mouth closed against the gnats, when I heard behind me one of them big ol' diesel sumbitches, the kind that usually has a rifle rack and a sticker supporting some racecar fellow attached. Natch, I assumed it was one of the redneckocracy coming to get me for making fun of Larry the Cable Guy at the InKY last week or, let's face it, any of fifty billion other offenses. Before I could think of somebody to plausibly say my last prayer to, I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw the unmistakable orange and blue of an ambulance, the big boxy kind that is about half the size of the entire hospital I was born in. And the driver wasn't even in a hurry. But, because of the giant size of the box, he needed the entire road to get around me, which left me only enough room to not need his services, for which I was grateful. In other good news, moments later I got one of those electronic police how-fast-are-you-going signs up to 14 MPH.