Driving through a neighborhood next to Piedmont Park on the way to walk with ETK, I found a young woman in a pink hoodie sprawled on a sidewalk.
As I drove past, I first wondered if she was admiring the trees. She was flat on her back, surrounded by leaves with a wonderful canopy above her. 2 seconds later I was half a block away and realized no, that’s not right. I turned around, stopped the car, got out and found big fat tears on her cheeks when I leaned over to ask if she was OK. “No” she said in a tiny little voice, explaining in English broken by shock that she’d wrecked her bike, thought her arm was broken and couldn’t get up. I asked how long she’d been there. “A while.” I wondered how many people drove by without seeing, or drove by and saw and didn’t stop.
I picked up her bike, put it behind her house (she was almost home), packed her in the Jeep and delivered Allesandra the young Colombian GA Tech student to the health center.
I secretly love it when the universe kicks my azz for being a jerk – specifically for wanting to hit a girl over the head with a chair earlier today for wearing a miniskirt, too much CK One and in general not being authentic. Shame on me.