that’s gonna leave a mark.
- watercolor / illustration by aaron tsuru
After a lovely lunch date in Chelsea with @tsurubride where we checked out some amazing art and grabbed a couple burgers, I hopped on the citibike to make my way back to work, finish up a long week, and get ready for our anniversary weekend (10 years together, 8 years married).
I citibike to our lunch dates because it literally takes me 6-7 minutes to get across town vs. 20-25 on a train or walking. On the way back, I was at a red light at 9th ave. It turned green and I stood up to get some gumption and get moving. Just as I got across the avenue, the gear slipped (as can happen on a poorly maintained bike), the pedal spun forward, and my feet flew out.
My left foot hit the pavement as my body fell forward. The pedal then smashed into my ankle as I held onto the handlebars, braking, trying to stay upright.
I finally stopped. I was hurting, but was mostly just shaken up. A truck pulled up and asked if I was okay (side note: a cyclist who was with me at the light passed me without saying a word).
“I’m fine, I think I’m okay.” I said to the truck. They asked if I was sure and I said yeah, I’ll be okay, and they drove off.
There was a citibike station across the street so I tried to walk the bike to it and realized it hurt way too much to walk. I was still four NYC long blocks away from work, so I decided to ride to work on the citibike. Focusing on my right foot to pedal.
I docked the bike and limped a few short blocks to work. Went to the first aid kit and headed to the bathroom to wrap up. I pulled the sock down and saw a pool of dark blood sitting in the largest gash I have ever seen in real life. As you can imagine, it was alarming. I wrapped it up the best I could and told my boss and co-workers I needed to go to urgent care.
There was one about 4 short blocks away, so I limped over to it elbowing people along the way who would not watch where they were going (no fucks given at this point).
The City MD walk-in urgent care people were very nice. Flushed it out, numbed it up, gave me 7 big ol’ Frankenstein stitches and I headed back to work. The gash pain was gone due to the anesthetic, but it still felt like someone smacked the back of my ankle with a bat.
So I took some tylenol, said adieu, grabbed my stuff, hailed an Uber back to Brooklyn and painted my foot pre-stitches.
So now it’s our anniversary weekend and we are about to go to a couples spa treatment. Can’t get my foot in the hot tub, so this is quickly going from “romantic” weekend to “romantic-comedy” weekend… but we’ll make due.
The big question is… how do I get my bike that I left at Sid’s bike shop to get tuned back to Brooklyn on Monday?