But let me share it with you!
The other afternoon I was crossing a quiet street on the West Side and heard behind me the thump of something dropped to the pavement, followed by a man’s surprised curse. “Shit.” I turned to see a broken twelve-pack carton and beer cans slowly rolling in all directions from their impact point in the dead center of a four-way stop. A man on a bicycle was stopped in his tracks above them.
A man above teenage years, riding a bicycle without a helmet or spandex apparel, has a DUI. That’s what he’s doing without a car.
| An otherwise scruffy man on a shiny kid’s mountain bike has been through the Salvation Army Rehabilitation Program. Working in their center or doing community service in a thrift store is an easy way to score a bicycle. Insiders get first choice, even if the donations are intended for impoverished children. |
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A grown man riding home from the liquor store at three in the afternoon carrying a case of beer has graduated from the recovery program and been assisted with his own apartment from which to make a fresh start. That’s my guess.
So it was with guilty satisfaction that I turned my head from watching as cars backed up at the stop sign to wait while this fellow scrambled after his booty without even a bag into which to gather it.
