I fell off my bike for America!

It vexes me!

Because I'm a dolt.

Have you ever known for a full couple of seconds that you're about to eat it, and hard, but there's nothing you can really do about it?

I have. I was just cycling home, thinking giddy thoughts about the upcoming 4th of July when I peeled a leg off the bike so I could stand on one pedal and glide to a graceful halt, stepping spryly down to the sidewalk as I reached walking speed.

That would have been wicked acceptable.

Instead, I started gliding on one pedal, looked down, realized I had a scant moment before catching a curb with the selfsame pedal I was balanced on, sighed, and took off over the handlebars like an utter asshat.

Yeah, I'm pretty awesome. My mother told me so.

Speaking of dear old Mom - in case you're reading this, I was wearing two helmets and a kevlar vest when this happened, as I make a conscientious point of doing every time I ride anywhere.