Call the damned cops.

May 25th, 2010

On my way back from my afternoon snack trip, I walked by a scraped up, shirtless biker talking to a paunchy business suit. Obviously the cyclist had just gotten hit by this guy. The older guy was trying to convince the kid that his bike was fine, as the kid looked for obvious damage.

“Take it to a shop.” I blurted. Couldn’t help myself. “Don’t just eye it, take it to a shop.”

“Yeah… ” said the kid, agreeing with me. He then noticed that his break lever was hanging off by a thread. “See!?” he gestured to the older guy.

“Call the cops, now. File a report.”, I said. I was so pissed off that the old dude was just trying to drive away from this.

“Nice shirt..” the biker said to me.

I walked into  my office, peed, and grabbed a bottle of water, running outside to give it to the biker as he waited for the police…

… and he was gone. They both were. Obviously they didn’t wait for the police. I really hope the guy is on his way to the station now to report this. I’m so pissed off.

Wherever you are guy, good luck. And I also hope you were wearing sunblock.

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