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- | | c o m m u n i c a t i o n s | |
- | |________________________________________________________________| |
- |____________________________________________________________________|
-
- ...presents... Trickledown
- by Josh Whalen
-
- >>> a cDc publication.......1990 <<<
- -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
- _______________________________________________________________________________
-
-
- It was about six weeks after I started riding for Blitzkrieg that the
- inevitable happened. I was carrying about three runs, one rush and one
- oversize, all going pretty far south, a good twenty-five dollars worth of work,
- good money. It wasn't even noon yet and I was already holding like twelve
- tickets, it was turning out to be my best day yet. I was cutting cross town on
- fifty-fourth street, hitting all the lights just as they were turning green, I
- was really hellbent. I came up on fifth avenue, heading west, the light turned
- to green just as I entered the cross walk. I saw a cab blow the intersection
- just before I entered it myself, just a few fractions of a second earlier and
- we would have tested several laws of physics. I didn't see the limousine
- behind him run the red light on fifth until after it had relieved me of my
- front wheel.
-
- Just like that! I felt, I don't know, a tug on the front fork. The next
- thing I knew, the whole bike whipped around and slid sideways into the side of
- the limousine. I threw myself back, off the bike, back into the cross walk
- when I felt the bike begin to whip, and that was what saved me. The limousine
- fled, only to be caught at the next light by traffic. I was seething with
- adrenaline, boiling mad, like only combat troops ever get, I imagine. I
- grabbed up the wreckage of the bike, threw it over my shoulder, and chased the
- limo down on foot. A crowd had gathered; this was a busy intersection with
- lots of pedestrians all rubber-necking the scene. They'd all seen what
- happened. People in midtown hate bike messengers in general; we come out of
- nowhere silently, not like a car with its noisy engine declaring its presence a
- block in advance. We scare them, with our close passing. "Plenty of room" to
- a skilled fix-wheel rider is a hairs' breadth to some pedestrian investment
- trader. They'd seen what had happened, though, and I'd had the light. For
- once it was obviously not the biker's fault. They were all yelling as I pulled
- out my bike lock, a big horseshoe of hardened steel, and pulled open the
- drivers door before he could lock it. People were shouting, "Do it!" and "He
- ran the light! Don't let him go! Hold him 'till the cops get here!" If
- there's anything people hate worse than a bike messenger, it's a hit and run
- driver. I was breathing hard and sweat was pouring down my face, I must have
- looked like a real berserker. I held the lock back on one hand like I was
- ready to brain the driver with it and thundered at him: "All right, pal, we can
- do this one of three ways. We can sit here blocking traffic and wait for the
- cops to show, and for them to lock you up for hit and run and running a red
- light, or, I can dismantle you and your car with my lock, or, you can
- compensate me right now for my bike and the loss of a day's pay, and I'll just
- hail a cab and go home and you can go on your way. What'll it be?" He looked
- at me with blank eyes for just a moment, but I was all accelerated, my time
- sense wound up by several orders of magnitude, it seemed like he took way too
- long, so I kicked the side of the car and shrieked, "WELL?" He reached into
- his jacket and took out his wallet, threw its contents on the street, slammed
- the door and took off into traffic. I picked up the money, counted a hundred
- and ten dollars. Someone in the crowd said, "Hey! He's gettin' away!" I
- smiled and said, "It's alright, he paid me." I dragged the bike over to the
- corner, called in to my dispatcher and told him what had happened.
-
- The first thing he wanted to know was if the packages were damaged, and I
- reassured him they were fine. Then he asked, "D'you catch the guy?"
-
- "Yeah," I said.
-
- "Did he pay you?"
-
- "Yeah," I said.
-
- "How much?"
-
- I told him.
-
- "Good work," he said, "as long as he paid you."
-
- I was back on the road bright and early the next day. The new bike only
- cost me fifty bucks, so I figured I came out ahead.
-
- _ _ _____________________________________________________________________
- /((___))\|The Dead Zone........214/522-5321 Demon Roach Undrgrnd..806/794-4362
- [ x x ] |NIHILISM.............415/285-9453 The People Farm.......916/673-8412
- \ / |Tequila Willy's GSC..209/526-3194 The Bombay............714/897-0412
- (' ') |Lunatic Labs.........213/655-0691 The Works.............617/861-8976
- (U) |=====================================================================
- .ooM |1990 cDc communications by Josh Whalen. 05/17/90-#135
- \_______/|All Rights Pissed Away.
-
-
- Downloaded From P-80 International Information Systems 304-744-2253
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