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Three Inches of Crack

July 17, 2009

I do my best to keep my butt in my pants when I’m riding my bike, but sometimes things happen that are beyond my control. Stiff winds, wily drafts, unexpected gusts. Crappy drivers giving me bigger things to think about than my attire–for instance, a hoodie that won’t stop hiking up, trying my patience and forcing me to accept that yes, I am that girl, the one on the bike with panties escaping her waistband, shirt scooched to reveal a bit of bum. Three inches of crack flashing the whole street.

I don’t subscribe to the “she asked for it” defence, but when I sat down to write this, I found myself reframing the tale. It was going to be an instalment in the Bad Lines series, which chronicles the tasteless, lame, lazy and crude. But, in fairness, my hoodie and my bum helped move the action forward; not exactly complicit, but passively provocative. And so, while the men who come next (see their car? it’s a block behind me, about to arrive on the scene and take over this story) were certainly disgusting, they weren’t acting alone…I suppose.


Mary’s show was fantastic. She was radiant through two costume changes and countless instruments; she even produced an excellent story on the spot when her fingers cramped and she had to abandon a song. I left the bar shortly after midnight, snapped the buckle on my helmet, chucked my purse in my basket, and cycled up Augusta, blew through the lights to head west along College. Bed was calling, traffic was light, and I picked up speed.

I was three blocks from home when I heard the first hiss. On my left, two men rode low in a shiny black car, well-dressed and well-groomed and jangling with bling. Hunched till his head barely cleared the window, the passenger was evidently taking precautions against a drive-by or similar urban danger. He rested his chin on the window sill and waggled his tongue. If this were cartoons, the sound effect would be like wagga-lagga-lagga. He looked…deranged…but, I suspect he thought he looked might fine.

“Sssssss…yeah, baby oh baby oh baby yeahhhhh,” he whispered. Yes, he was whispering. A tone perfectly pitched to carry over tires on pavement, a modified tailpipe, and my U-lock rattling against my bicycle frame. He wasn’t through; his buddy slowed down and kept pace with my pedaling. “Mmmmm awww yeah, baby that tattoo, it be mighty fine. Yeah, that tattoo, I want you to show me how far down it go.”

And so on. Wagga-lagga-lagga.

Did his friend think he was cool? Was he all, “aww, yeah, well-played, bra. I totally be up in that, too, if you had the wheel and I was riding shotgun!” Or, was the driver quietly cringing, wishing his disgusting and declassé passenger would get his damn head back in the car and his damn tongue back in his face?

I thought of my sister’s recent outburst, the day she stuck up for herself and told off a heckler. I thought of my bed, which was still calling, and the night, which remained warm, and my bike, which goes just fast enough. And then, instead of flipping the bird, or suggesting the man go fuck himself, or hawking a loogie at the car, I simply turned right.

5 Comments leave one →
  1. looka permalink
    July 17, 2009 7:22 pm

    Yeah, while most A-holes don't move away it's good that you can turn right, away from their apparent stench.

    A RC for that window would have been neat!

  2. Kim permalink
    July 19, 2009 2:05 pm

    Wow. Your depiction of that dude made me throw up in my mouth a little. Good on you for depriving him of the reaction he was so obviously angling for.

    Besides, it's not his fault he was born with such an eensy-teensy widdle penis.

  3. Amanda permalink
    July 19, 2009 8:05 pm

    Lucky for him, he can buy a fancy car, and we all know that fancy car = automatic two extra inches!

  4. Kim permalink
    July 19, 2009 9:53 pm

    Yes! It is amazing that you resisted his charms!

  5. Amanda permalink
    July 19, 2009 10:13 pm

    Well, if you read the full series of "Bad Lines", you will understand I have had to be awfully tough to resist ALL the gents over the past few months. There have been some real catches come my way and yet, I hold back. Heh.

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