This Goes to Show You How the Energy You Throw Off Comes Back to You.

I am riding my bike from Union Square to the Bar, to dance. I am late. I cross 6th Ave crosswalk. A motherfucker takes two running steps and kicks my bike as hard he can. I cut him off or give me any reason to do this. I stop my bike. "what the fuck was that?" no response. "fucking asshole!"

"fucking faggot."

"what did you say?"

"FUCKING FAGGOT!!!"

He is already walking away by this point. I put my kickstand up. Leave my bike in the street. Start walking after him. Rip my fucking sunglasses and earphones out. "Say it to my face!" he continues to hustle to the nearest store, a fucking Sprint PCS. I follow him in there as he walks deeper in the store. I call him a fucking pussy a couple times really loudly, then walk away, get on my bike, and get ready to don a plastic'grass skirt, and a floaty ring in the shape of Tony the Tiger.

Afterwards, I am leaving with a friend, and two dudes walk past us, one of them makes an under-his-breath type of condescending comment that sounds nice but you know it means the opposite, you stupid fucking faggot, so when I chirp up "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY? COULD YOU PLEASE REPEAT THAT? SPEAK INTO THE MICROPHONE." He doesn't like it very much and can just say

"I didn't say nothing mean, I just said that you can go on continue doing whatever you want to do, I didn't say shit."

with all the sarcastic, deluded, grandeur he can conjure up.
"BULLSHIT. BULL-FUCKING SHIT" This is when my friend steps in, as he can see that they are probably in a gang, three of his friends are half a block away wondering if they should pull him away or wait for the signal to join in and beat us faggots down. They talk heatedly for a while, I stop listening. Key terms I hear are, "This is my turf," "your friend needs to step down (I was unchanged in my position, smiling bemusedly, I would rather have had my teeth knocked out and my face drug across the pavement than back down at that moment)," "...Just because you're light-skinned," "I know. My friend, he's talking stupid, and he's not going to say nothing no more (friend is looking at me, like keep your fucking mouth shut stupid ass)."

We managed to get out of that one unscathed, but seriously, fucking hell, why should two faggots think that being fucking heckled by some ignorant assholes (whose fucking turf you happen to be on, um, we're one block away from a gay bar and fancy car delearships assholes I think that makes it just as much our turf, um, joking, but anyway) whilst walking away from a leather bar think that's OK, and not speak up, even if it means getting our asses kicked?

I guess that really doesn't change anything.

Needless to say, I got so freaked out I had to immediately change plans, and hop on my bike, and ride the entire way back to the bowels of fucking Brooklyn. Finally. The best part is that I was frying my nuts off and was quite drunk and stoned also. It took me maybe forty-five minutes to ride the six+ miles. How's that for endorphins? Work it out.

MORALITY REPORT: Please, everyone out there, do not ride your bike, your car, your motorcycle, whatever, when you are wasted. It is super dangerous and really dumb. And really, I'm a huge believer in doing whatever the fuck you want as long as you are not putting other people in harm's way, and that is it exactly what you do when doing stupid shit like that. Riding across the bridge all whacked out and shit was pretty awesome though.