I lived alone, off campus, the last two years of college. For most of that time I didn't have a car and the only way to get to school was a janky old bike that I amorously named "Rickets," because it was old and rickety and because it seemed like it had a bad case of rickets.
You don't know what rickets is? You should get an encyclopedia and learn something today. Rickets is really quite fascinating.
I rode Rickets to school for about a year, and when I wasn't going to school, I would ride to my on-campus job, the grocery store, or San Diego. While I was riding Rickets, I did not own a helmet, and I unfortunately learned a lot of lessons about biking that I would have rather learned while wearing a helmet. It was after a few of these lessons, Rickets decided to make some changes. Specifically, his wheel was bent into an inconvenient oval shape; there were only two gears that fucntioned properly; and the frame (already rusted) bent in two places.
I still needed to get to school and I hated walking, so I continued to ride Rickets, janky, oval wheel and all, to and from school.
It should also be noted that I was constantly trying to save money to buy a new bike. I knew that it was way past time to get a new set of wheels. I had looked into many many solutions to my transportation problems.
I went to the tiny bike shop and asked them to fix Rickets.
"They don't make that kind of bike anymore. We don't have the parts."
I went to the giant, bicycle mega-store.
"There's no use riding that bike. Buy a new one- our 2005 models just came in!"
I went to the medium sized bike store (oddly, NEXT DOOR to the giant place).
Them: "I won't touch that bike."
Me: "What? Why not?"
Them: "I'm liable for any injury you sustain while riding that bike if I touch it."
Me: "But can you fix it? I promise I won't sue you for my own stupidity."
Them: "You need to leave, right now."
Needless to say, Rickets wasn't going to be getting fixed up anytime soon. My only other option was to get a new bike. But a new road bike would cost me upwards of $1000 and I didn't have that kind of money. I could barely buy groceries.
So I devised a foolproof scheme to both my bicycle problems and my money problems: I would get hit by a car.
Genius, isn't it? I would get hit by a car and then, after recovering, I would calmly walk over to the driver, who, of course, would be sitting in his seat, stunned, and ask the person to write me a check for $5000 and I wouldn't press charges.
I was going to college when I thought of this. It might even have been grounds to legally commit me to the psychiatric wing in the hospital. I needed severe supervision.
What kind of person solves things by planning on getting hit by a car?! What's more, I only wanted $5000?! Who was I kidding? What the fuck was wrong with me that I thought it would be a good idea to be hit by a car? A college student.
Jesus Christ- I would be lucky to be ALIVE after being hit by a car. People do some pretty fucked up stuff in college- jump off bridges, get alcohol poisoning, study Political Science, but NOBODY wants to be hit by a car.
I only wish that I had thought about my get rich quick scheme enough to realize that one day, I would sit at my computer, dumbfounded by my own stupidity. If there is ONE thing that I take away from college—one thing that I attribute my degree to—it's that I am a complete retard.
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