When I was being interviewed for my current job (I’m the pastor of a Sun City West church) the call committee chairman told me, “The most dangerous place to drive is the parking lot at Bashas.”
I beg to differ. I ride my bike for exercise 2-3 times per week. Every month I have at least one close call. Today was the closest.
I saw the car approaching from a side street to my right. It was going fast and I was concerned that the driver wouldn’t stop, so I tried to get her attention. The car came to an abrupt stop.
“Good,” I thought to myself. “She sees me.” I continued through the intersection.
As soon as I was in front of the bumper, the car lurched forward and I dove for the curb, falling over my handlebars in the process. I picked myself up off the sidewalk, the car stopped and the driver apologized. “I didn’t see you. I’m sorry. Are you all right?”
As I leaned over the bike to catch my breath I said, “Well, I don’t think I broke any bones.” She replied, “I’m very sorry.” And then took off.
I’m a big guy and wear bright colors. Easy to see, if one looks. It’s a good thing I was looking or I might have ended up as a hood ornament.