I feel my cell vibrate while sitting at my desk. I’ve got a text. As I suspect it’s from my bf. She wants to know what happened after she left on Saturday and can I meet for lunch. I can’t meet today though because I go to my Divorce Support Group meeting on Mondays. I look like I’m sick every Monday because I don’t get any sleep on Sunday. God knows what the other divorcees think of me and my sleep deprivated eyeballs. I have what some would call SNAS or Sunday Night Anxiety Syndrome. Blink blink blink, toss, turn, toss, turn, switch out pillow. Blink blink blink. Repeat. What time is it? I can only pray it’s time to get up and it is. It wouldn’t be a Monday without the mid-morning call from my oldest sister complaining about her life and the lives of everyone else in our family. I chime in with the complaints. Of course one of them drinks too much, the other one is married to a crazy person and the other is undeniably dysfunctional and there’s nothing else to say. We conclude we’re the only sane ones and hang up. Not before I offer her $100 in order to fix a broken appliance. She’ll let me know if that’s necessary. Tic toc. Lunch time! I change shoes for my walk over to my meeting.
It’s an oddly warm day for January . . . just waiting for the temp to plunge to below zero like it does every other day here but for now I look both ways at the bike lane and lights. The light is green but no bikers. Car lanes are stopped. The lights switch up I’m thinking I could cross but at that very moment a taxi cab speeds ahead at the exact time a biker/messenger is flying and by flying I mean zooming through the intersection. All I see is paper and plastic and screams and screeching! The biker/messenger is quite literally thrown onto a parked vehicle on the corner near the point of the collision. His bike has slid to another corner and one of his shoes is stuck in the pedal and is in fact still pedaling. I think for a minute if I should go retrieve his shoe for him but I don’t. Simultaneously people grab for their cell phones to call for help. Where is my phone?! Where I left it, of course, on my desk! Someone is yelling at the cab driver and now I hear sirens. It looks like two fire trucks, an ambulance and a squad car. The biker/messenger is slightly moving. People are trying to talk to him. I think maybe they need to unstrap his helmet but no one wants to remove it. Why am I standing here? Next thing you know I’ll be asked to make a report or statement. And now I’m late for my meeting.
Everyone exchanges late happy new year wishes. A male in the group has had his divorce become final on NYE. That hurts. He’s joined a boxing gym and says it’s exhilarating. We discuss boxing for a bit. Another gentleman has had a run-in that very morning with his soon to be ex-wife’s boyfriend whose name is Chad. She’s not supposed to have any male friends while they’re both still living in the house. He makes her aware of this rule and now Chad is also aware. His emotions do not give any indication of how he is feeling about this awkward event one way or another. He just says it’s fine except she broke the rule. Hmmmm. Yet another gentleman is thinking his present girlfriend is not “the” girlfriend for a number of reasons and he sprinkles this entire slot of talking with bouts of bragging on himself and his children. Lunch is over back to work. Would you believe traffic is backed up as far as the eye can see. All the first responders are still there by my building! Now I can’t help but think there must have been a fatality. The messenger/biker must not have made it! Wrong. The cab driver’s vehicle was hit while it was waiting for the police to issue him a ticket and the person who hit the cab wasn’t paying attention because she was on her phone and trying to check out the accident at the same time not realizing the cab was stopped for good and not moving along with the rest of the traffic she slams into the back of it and well now a whole other lawsuit will be born. Lucky for me my friend from work stood on the corner the entire time I was at my meeting so she was able to relay the entire situation to me. I’m looking at the police officer now because he’s looking at me. Wait, he really is looking at me and he’s cute. He motions for me to come over. I cannot stop smiling and all I can think about is my ugly boots I have on with salt stains covering them from the snowy weather last week. Oh My God, he asks me if I was on the corner at the time of the accident and would I be willing to make a statement. Really? I tell him I was on the scene at first but I didn’t want to have to give a statement unless absolutely necessary. He says it’s necessary for him to find out what my name is! I’m still smiling. I give him my number and all but run back to my office. First things first. Where’s my phone?! Found it and there’s a text from my sister “guess who just plowed into the back of a cab on Lake Street.” Of course it would be someone I would know. Another text coming in . . . it’s from the police officer guy “can you meet me on this corner same time tomorrow,” he adds a wink smile! It’s a date.