Sunday afternoon, driving home after some unauthorized workplace-printing. Stopped at a light, six or so cars back, a little to the left so I can see forward. Just as the light is changing to green our way, a young kid on a tricked-out bike flies into the intersection, running in on a stale yellow.
Now, I don't know what he did, but suddenly I see his back wheel going into the air – a horrific spill. I couldn't see what might have caused it but he had the entire 4×4 lane intersection to himself between the lights. Could have been grit or debris, or just hot-dogging going wrong. I can't tell you. All I can say is that cartoon stars definitely floated up from the site of the crash.
Evidently he limped the bike to the side of the road, and moved down the sidewalk a ways, as if in embarrassment. I passed by him with the light, catching sight of him cleaning the area. No assessment, no moment to recover, no check for injuries – just get away from the site of shame.
No helmet, no gloves. Get the cream out.