105 lines
6.0 KiB
Plaintext
105 lines
6.0 KiB
Plaintext
|
|
_
|
|
| \
|
|
| \
|
|
| | \
|
|
__ | |\ \ __
|
|
_____________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ _____________
|
|
| ___________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ ___________ |
|
|
| | _/_/_____ | | > > _/_/_____ | |
|
|
| | /________/ | | / / /________/ | |
|
|
| | | | / / | |
|
|
| | | |/ / | |
|
|
| | | | / | |
|
|
| | | / | |
|
|
| | |_/ | |
|
|
| | | |
|
|
| | c o m m u n i c a t i o n s | |
|
|
| |________________________________________________________________| |
|
|
|____________________________________________________________________|
|
|
|
|
...presents... Trickledown
|
|
by Josh Whalen
|
|
|
|
>>> a cDc publication.......1990 <<<
|
|
-cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
|
|
_______________________________________________________________________________
|
|
|
|
|
|
It was about six weeks after I started riding for Blitzkrieg that the
|
|
inevitable happened. I was carrying about three runs, one rush and one
|
|
oversize, all going pretty far south, a good twenty-five dollars worth of work,
|
|
good money. It wasn't even noon yet and I was already holding like twelve
|
|
tickets, it was turning out to be my best day yet. I was cutting cross town on
|
|
fifty-fourth street, hitting all the lights just as they were turning green, I
|
|
was really hellbent. I came up on fifth avenue, heading west, the light turned
|
|
to green just as I entered the cross walk. I saw a cab blow the intersection
|
|
just before I entered it myself, just a few fractions of a second earlier and
|
|
we would have tested several laws of physics. I didn't see the limousine
|
|
behind him run the red light on fifth until after it had relieved me of my
|
|
front wheel.
|
|
|
|
Just like that! I felt, I don't know, a tug on the front fork. The next
|
|
thing I knew, the whole bike whipped around and slid sideways into the side of
|
|
the limousine. I threw myself back, off the bike, back into the cross walk
|
|
when I felt the bike begin to whip, and that was what saved me. The limousine
|
|
fled, only to be caught at the next light by traffic. I was seething with
|
|
adrenaline, boiling mad, like only combat troops ever get, I imagine. I
|
|
grabbed up the wreckage of the bike, threw it over my shoulder, and chased the
|
|
limo down on foot. A crowd had gathered; this was a busy intersection with
|
|
lots of pedestrians all rubber-necking the scene. They'd all seen what
|
|
happened. People in midtown hate bike messengers in general; we come out of
|
|
nowhere silently, not like a car with its noisy engine declaring its presence a
|
|
block in advance. We scare them, with our close passing. "Plenty of room" to
|
|
a skilled fix-wheel rider is a hairs' breadth to some pedestrian investment
|
|
trader. They'd seen what had happened, though, and I'd had the light. For
|
|
once it was obviously not the biker's fault. They were all yelling as I pulled
|
|
out my bike lock, a big horseshoe of hardened steel, and pulled open the
|
|
drivers door before he could lock it. People were shouting, "Do it!" and "He
|
|
ran the light! Don't let him go! Hold him 'till the cops get here!" If
|
|
there's anything people hate worse than a bike messenger, it's a hit and run
|
|
driver. I was breathing hard and sweat was pouring down my face, I must have
|
|
looked like a real berserker. I held the lock back on one hand like I was
|
|
ready to brain the driver with it and thundered at him: "All right, pal, we can
|
|
do this one of three ways. We can sit here blocking traffic and wait for the
|
|
cops to show, and for them to lock you up for hit and run and running a red
|
|
light, or, I can dismantle you and your car with my lock, or, you can
|
|
compensate me right now for my bike and the loss of a day's pay, and I'll just
|
|
hail a cab and go home and you can go on your way. What'll it be?" He looked
|
|
at me with blank eyes for just a moment, but I was all accelerated, my time
|
|
sense wound up by several orders of magnitude, it seemed like he took way too
|
|
long, so I kicked the side of the car and shrieked, "WELL?" He reached into
|
|
his jacket and took out his wallet, threw its contents on the street, slammed
|
|
the door and took off into traffic. I picked up the money, counted a hundred
|
|
and ten dollars. Someone in the crowd said, "Hey! He's gettin' away!" I
|
|
smiled and said, "It's alright, he paid me." I dragged the bike over to the
|
|
corner, called in to my dispatcher and told him what had happened.
|
|
|
|
The first thing he wanted to know was if the packages were damaged, and I
|
|
reassured him they were fine. Then he asked, "D'you catch the guy?"
|
|
|
|
"Yeah," I said.
|
|
|
|
"Did he pay you?"
|
|
|
|
"Yeah," I said.
|
|
|
|
"How much?"
|
|
|
|
I told him.
|
|
|
|
"Good work," he said, "as long as he paid you."
|
|
|
|
I was back on the road bright and early the next day. The new bike only
|
|
cost me fifty bucks, so I figured I came out ahead.
|
|
|
|
_ _ _____________________________________________________________________
|
|
/((___))\|The Dead Zone........214/522-5321 Demon Roach Undrgrnd..806/794-4362
|
|
[ x x ] |NIHILISM.............415/285-9453 The People Farm.......916/673-8412
|
|
\ / |Tequila Willy's GSC..209/526-3194 The Bombay............714/897-0412
|
|
(' ') |Lunatic Labs.........213/655-0691 The Works.............617/861-8976
|
|
(U) |=====================================================================
|
|
.ooM |1990 cDc communications by Josh Whalen. 05/17/90-#135
|
|
\_______/|All Rights Pissed Away.
|
|
|