When I was in the 8th grade, my junior high was only a few blocks away from my home. Most of the time, I took the bus like any good, lazy American. But one day I decided it would be really health-conscious, and somehow cool, to ride my new ten-speed to school instead. (It also bought me 15 more minutes of sleep time.)

I got everything together in my bookbag and headed out. I was fine for the first few blocks. I was providing my own transportation, and that felt good. Then a strategic error became my downfall. If I had chosen one route (Blenheim - Pine Book - Pease, for those who still live there), I would have had a clear and wide shoulder to ride on most of the way. But for some reason (the reason has been lost to antiquity), I chose a different road (Blenheim - Madigan - Pease) which took me through an area where the woods went right up to the edge of the road. (The woods are long gone from that area now.)

The bookbag, plus the fact that I was a tiny bit too short for my new bike, put me dangerously off-balance as it was. The lack of shoulder on the road sealed my fate. As I approached a 4-way stop, a shiny sedan pulled up right next to me — not giving me a speck of leeway seeing as I was a preteen on a bike and he was in a 2,000-pound car. As I coasted to a stop, I had to veer into the underbrush to avoid his wheels. And, not surprisingly, the bike pitched to the left and I fell over into the woodsy growth.

The car window goes down and the suited businessman inside leans out. I expect to hear the standard, "Are you okay?" or even an angry, "Watch it!" but instead, this Einstein-mixed-with-Mother-Teresa says, "Huh huh. That was funny." Thanks, Beavis. Move along. Being the goofy, awkward preteen that I was, I mumbled, "Yeah, funny." and righted myself. He drove away and I headed the last block to school with a bloodied leg, arm and ego. I never rode my bike to school again and I still have nightmares about idiotic stockbrokers laughing at me.

Someday, I hope to be present when this man's liver explodes from drinking one too many trendy martinis at client-schmoozing dinners so I, too, can have the pleasure of saying, "Huh huh. That was funny."