About five years ago, on a warm summer night, I was on a mission to ride my bicycle downtown, get drunk on scotch and dance the night away. I typically only drink beer, but on occasion, like hard liquor.
I had a wonderful time. People were friendly to the single girl and I danced my share with some beautiful strangers.
Four or five beers is no big deal for me to consume, especially while dancing, but three or four scotches, is a different buzz all together.
I decided I needed to pay my tab and split! I unlocked my bike and started along the painted bike path that ran down the middle of a very busy Hennepin Avenue, sharing the road with buses, cabs and cops. That stretch was just over a mile long. The next mile or so passed under the freeway, along the Sculpture Garden and the indoor ice rink, then under more freeway, to reach the bike path.
The whole time I told myself to hang on, keep peddling, stay alert. I was fucking hammered.
Ahh, I made it to the bike path. No more traffic, just the quiet of the park. I rode another mile and then fell asleep and rode off the path, coming to rest in the three foot high field grass. I didn't crash land, it was all in slow motion.
I don't know if I laid there 20 minutes or two hours? I do know it was dark, the stars were out and every fucking mosquito in the ditch was probing my body. I remember reaching for my Deet spray.
A man on a bike stopped to see if I was okay and offered to call the cops! ahh, No thank you! I was conscious enough to tell him I was fine, that I was "working on a field study." He seemed to accept that nonsense and rode off.
I lifted my bike off the prairie floor and put the chain back on. I rode the last few miles home without further peril.
After sleeping it off, I realized what I did and collected my thoughts. I proudly declared mission accomplished. I rode, I drank, I danced, had great fun, and I did not get raped, robbed, stabbed, killed, or arrested! I still had my wallet and jewelry and my glasses never left my face.
The only thing missing was my eyeglass case with my shades. shit. So I peddled back and found it. It was so easy to see where I left the path. The patch of flattened grass looked like a deer had slept there. Yes, it was dear Jenny.
I had a wonderful time. People were friendly to the single girl and I danced my share with some beautiful strangers.
Four or five beers is no big deal for me to consume, especially while dancing, but three or four scotches, is a different buzz all together.
I decided I needed to pay my tab and split! I unlocked my bike and started along the painted bike path that ran down the middle of a very busy Hennepin Avenue, sharing the road with buses, cabs and cops. That stretch was just over a mile long. The next mile or so passed under the freeway, along the Sculpture Garden and the indoor ice rink, then under more freeway, to reach the bike path.
The whole time I told myself to hang on, keep peddling, stay alert. I was fucking hammered.
Ahh, I made it to the bike path. No more traffic, just the quiet of the park. I rode another mile and then fell asleep and rode off the path, coming to rest in the three foot high field grass. I didn't crash land, it was all in slow motion.
I don't know if I laid there 20 minutes or two hours? I do know it was dark, the stars were out and every fucking mosquito in the ditch was probing my body. I remember reaching for my Deet spray.
A man on a bike stopped to see if I was okay and offered to call the cops! ahh, No thank you! I was conscious enough to tell him I was fine, that I was "working on a field study." He seemed to accept that nonsense and rode off.
I lifted my bike off the prairie floor and put the chain back on. I rode the last few miles home without further peril.
After sleeping it off, I realized what I did and collected my thoughts. I proudly declared mission accomplished. I rode, I drank, I danced, had great fun, and I did not get raped, robbed, stabbed, killed, or arrested! I still had my wallet and jewelry and my glasses never left my face.
The only thing missing was my eyeglass case with my shades. shit. So I peddled back and found it. It was so easy to see where I left the path. The patch of flattened grass looked like a deer had slept there. Yes, it was dear Jenny.
Nice! Like I said, very Mickey Spillane, very self aware. I like your storytelling Jenny.
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