the location: ontario street between 8th and 2nd
the participants: me on a trek 21-speed, and a bum on a safeway cart
the plot: nice day, so i decided to cruise down to the beach on my engineless motorcycle. im taking the bike route, and i hit 8th ave, where it start to becomea long downhill. i notice a bum on 8th ave (no, not the kind that dalton likes), and as im passing him, he decides to hop on the back of his cart and chuckle a bit. the race is on. i turn back, and im dusting him by a good 40 feet. punk. i thought i was racing a shopping cart, not a civic. uh oh, stop sign approaching. cars crisscrossing in my path. what do i do? i remember watching a figure 8 race on tnn once. should i? i cant. i dont want throngs of cyclists coming to my funeral to mourn a fellow peddler. i grab the rear brake. my left ear senses a rush of noise coming up behind me. no, couldnt be. he was way back, wasnt he? the cars ahead seem to freeze for an instant, and the shopping cart barrels through. i guess he wasnt worried about the running a stop sign ticket. i drop down a few gears, and speed up, but its too late. hes already at second ave waiting for me. he gives me a little chuckle, louder this time, and away i go. i sure learned my lesson. beware the sleepers.