Oopsie! Accidentally On Purpose

Despite all the hysteria that surrounded Citi Bike's debut, the system is in fact slotting neatly into the New York City transit infrastructure structure.  Indeed, just like the subway, half the time you marvel over its speed and convenience, and half the time you curse it for totally screwing you over.  I experienced the latter yesterday yet again when I emerged from the subway in Brooklyn only to find a dearth of bikes:

This guy took a drag off his cigarette and was like, "Tough shit:"

"No big deal," I thought.  There's another station right down the block.

Fortunately, there were bikes, but unfortunately the station didn't work, so I was unable to pluck any of its heavy, overripe, human-powered fruit.

Or, if you prefer:

"I pulled the lever on the machine but the Clark bar didn't come out!"


[Exclamation point!]

"Well, crap," I thought, "I guess I'll just have to go to the next next station."  So I did just that, and there was a bike waiting for me with my name on it (if my name were "Citi Bike," or else whatever's scribbled on that graffiti tag):

Sadly, that station didn't work either, so there I was, bikeless and adrift in stupid downtown Brooklyn and contemplating jumping this guy for his Citi Bike:

I'd have done it, too, if only I wasn't a complete and utter "woosie."  

Then I thought about flashing him my fake Park Slope Food Coop ID and telling him I needed to commandeer the bike for urgent smugness-related business:

But he must have seen the menacing look in my eye because he rode off like the wind.  (If the wind weighed fifty pounds, had only three speeds, and was plastered with corporate advertising.)

So in the end I had to walk, which I don't mind doing ordinarily, but which I do mind when I planned my whole trip around not doing it.  On the way back, however, not only did I have success with Citi Bike, but I also got to see the police pull over a driver instead of a cyclist:

Sometimes you're up, and sometimes your down.

Meanwhile, a number of people have informed me that the San Francisco cyclist who ran a red light and killed somebody has pleaded (or pled, or plud, sorry, I don't speak your "Legalese") guilty to manslaughter:

He won't go to jail, but he will have to perform a lot of community service:

Bucchere's plea deal, which does not include jail time, includes three years of probation and 1,000 hours of community service. He was scheduled to go to trial in October.

If nothing else, this is a lesson to beware of the Lucas Brunellian hero-in-your-own-mind mentality that can take over when you're riding in traffic and then compel you to write stupid stuff like this on the Internet after mortally wounding somebody:

"I was already way too committed to stop ... I couldn't see a line through the crowd and I couldn't stop so I laid down and just plowed through the crowded crosswalk in the least-populated place I could find," Bucchere wrote. "I hope he ends up OK."

Wow, what a putz.  Too committed to stop?  That sounds like the kind of excuse Carlos Danger would give for not pulling out in time.

On the other hand, it's hard to imagine a driver receiving a similar punishment, since in this country killing someone with your car is largely considered little more than an "Oopsie" unless huge amounts of alcohol are involved.  For example, I wonder what will happen to this driver when the police catch him?

(Via Leroy's dog)

The unidentified 18-year-old bicyclist was riding on Northern Boulevard around 1:50 a.m. this morning when a driver ran a red light and smashed into the bicyclist, who clung to the roof of the dark-colored car. The cyclist held on to the roof from where he was hit, on 54th street, until he was flung from the car when it turned on to 53rd Place. All the while on the roof, the bicyclist was trying to get the driver to stop their car.

"The guy was laid out on the roof, banging with his hand and yelling, 'Stop! Stop! Stop!' like panicking," a witness told the Daily News. "The guy went flying off the front of the car. He went rolling on the street."

Hopefully, justice will prevail, and the police will locate the driver so they can force the cyclist to reimburse him for the damage to his car.  

By the way, the original Daily News story refers to the act of running a red light, hitting somebody, and then driving around with him on your roof until you're finally able to shake him off as an "accident:"

Really, a "hit-and-run accident?"  How can a hit-and-run be an accident?  How come I never read the phrase "attempted murder accident," "or drive-by shooting accident," or "robbery accident?"  Hopefully the driver does get caught and by some miracle actually goes to jail, where I wouldn't be all that heartbroken to learn he became the victim of a "rape accident" in the shower.

More horrifying than any of this though is that cyclists in Berkeley are rolling through stop signs at a quiet intersection at moderate speeds:

Yes, after what was probably hours of staking out the intersection, the news crew managed to capture a series of completely non-thrilling utter non-near-misses like this one, in which which nobody narrowly avoided even the smallest amount of harm:

It seems to me that pretty much everyone in this video looks both ways before rolling through, and unlike the guy who was "way too committed to stop" they're all going slow enough to be able to bring their bicycles to a halt in about a foot and a half.

I'm not saying you should ride into an intersection like an idiot, but the only victim in this video was the stop sign, which is too metal and inanimate to give a fuck anyway.

Lastly, here's the latest attempt at redesigning the bicycle saddle by a person who can't come to terms with the fact that he should be riding a recumbent:

 

Note how hypnotically it undulates.  Not convinced this is the future of bicycle saddles?  Well, you'll be even less convinced after watching the video:

 


What is this "chaffing" they keep talking about?  Whatever it is, it can't be worse than getting your genitals caught between the saddle and the rails while it's rocking.