So I pissed off the Mob the other day.

And at first I thought, well, they can't attach a bomb to my car, because I don't have a car! Ha HA! But they stuck a firecracker to my bike.

It actually made the bike go faster, for a bit. So I thought, hey, wait a second. If I buy like fifty dollar's worth of fireworks and stick them on the back of the bike, I can just, like, woosh myself right home. And it would be less expensive than an E-bike. Right? Those things go for 2 grand at least.

So the next evening, I attached a large number of possibly-less-than-legal firework rockets to the back of the bike, tied the fuses together so they would all go off at the same time, mounted the bike, lit the fuse, braced myself and -- barely kept my grip on the bike as I took off like a rocket. FWOOOOOOOOSH.

For about five seconds of the wind whipping in my face it was the most glorious thing ever. And then I realized I'd started out on a T-intersection and a brick wall was coming up fast. In a split second I could either turn the bike and scrape my skin along the asphalt as I wiped out at Ludicrous Speed, or ram straight into the wall.

But by the time I thought of those two options I was already at the wall. My face was stung by flying brick chips as I -- busted right through?

I stood there in someone's garden, my clothing shredded, my bike a wreck -- and yet I was unblemished and unbruised. What on earth did this mean? Was the wall's mortar ong overdue for restoration? Or, could it be that I was simply impervious to brick walls?

So the next evening, having obtained someone's useless old three-speed for a song, and another fifty dollars worth of firework rockets, I stood with my bike on a street that ended in another brick wall. I mounted the bike, lit the fuse, braced myself and -- FWOOOOOOOOOSH.

Once again I found myself on the other side of a brick wall, with a ruined bike at my feet and a shredded shirt hanging off my unmarred shoulders. I must have been right, then. I was impervious to brick walls. Hot diggety dang!

And then I thought, wait just a moment, is it that I am impervious to all walls?

So the next evening, having acquired someone's old fixie and removed the chain, and having cleaned my source of fireworks out of their last rockets, I stood with the cheapass bike on a crappy-ass side street in a city where the leaders fifty years ago had decided the future was concrete. There at the end of the intersection was a plain concrete wall. I mounted the bike, lit the fuse, braced myself and --

Learned the hard way that I was only impervious to brick walls specifically. The EMTs had to scrape me off the wall with a giant spatula.

Between all the firework-buying and the ambulance fee I am flat broke, so the experiments are on pause for right now. But not abandoned! I will not be daunted! I will just have to get more cash. Hm, come to think of it, maybe Guido will give me a loan...

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.