I had this great idea. Since my motel room was really an efficiency apartment, I decided to go to the grocery store for dinner and breakfast. On the way I stopped at McDonalds because 50 miles of biking had left me starving. Late lunch.
The grocery store was one of those bargain places. Surprisingly the first thing I saw was s ready-made salad display. Chicken Caesar salad for me.
Next up was Cherrios and milk since I found a bowl in the kitchen and I brought a spoon. And then some bananas.
Finally beer and chips for the baseball game. The beer came in pints in a four pack for $3 and the chips were in a big bag for only $1. Batter up!
I rode back to the motel with my rear pannier full of the heavy stuff and the light stuff hanging in a plastic back on my handlebar. There’s a step to get to a small porch leading to the door of my room. I pushed The Mule up to the porch, fiddled in my pocket for the key, opened the door, and promptly tumbled backwards off the porch. The bike landed on top of me as I hit the pavement on my back. I am seriously lucky that my back didn’t fall across the parking curb.
Still there was blood from where my right elbow hit, blood on the back of my left hand, and a pain in my upper right rib cage either from hitting a lawn light or getting speared by the handlebar.
There’s only one thing to say in circumstances like this: Fuck me! I know that even unloaded The Mule is hard to maneuver. I attribute my poor judgement to fatigue. My balance is probably genetic. (“If only he had done yoga like we told him to.” STFU!!!!)
So I medicated with Cheerios and chips and salad and Rolling Rock. And turned on the game.
It was rained out.
I will now end the night reading the book I’ve been carrying for a week. It’s Stephen King’s Misery.