...I hit a homeless man w/my car...

1. I hit a homeless man today w/my car.
2. I don’t feel bad about it AT ALL!
3. Correction to statement #1- he HIT ME.
4. I’ve had “issues” w/this same homeless man a few times before.
5. We shall refer to him as Jimbo.

Jimbo is homeless. (I think.)

Well, he’s either homeless or shoe-less. I just assume that since he’s not wearing shoes that he doesn’t have a home in which to put them on.

He’s also car-less. How do I know this?.... b/c he always rides a bike.

Everywhere.

With no shoes on.

Even in the rain.

Jimbo always has on a short sleeved- white button up shirt (tucked in) and a pair of blue jean shorts.

….the previous statements rendering my conclusion that he is indeed, homeless.

To clarify point #4- I’ll refrain from all of my run in stories about Jimbo and just speak of the most recent one; about 3 weeks ago.

Joe and I were standing in line at CVS. There was one register open, and a line of people BEHIND us. A new register opens up, and the “lady” behind me DASHES to the register. EVEN THO, Joe and I are CLEARLY the next people in line.

…Out of nowhere; I become “angry black woman (ABW).” {Joe hates her, by the way.}

Well ABW takes over completely and very LOUDLY, and with a neck roll- and a “no no, finger shake”, she says; “Nu-uh… not today laaady… not in this line! Not in this CVS; you better get back in line… we were here first.” And GENTLY- ESCORTS the other lady out of the way.

The other lady turns around and says, “Hey! I’m a man!”…… and it was Jimbo- with no shoes on.

Joe’s completely embarrassed, and so am I…. not only have I insulted a man by calling him a lady in front of God and all of CVS, I have thus insulted a homeless man.

Now… to clarify points 1-3.

On my way home from work, I was basking in this beautiful weather. (And by basking, I mean- driving in the car w/the windows cracked, Whataburger chicken strips as my driving companion.)

There’s a street on the way to my house with MASSIVE construction- busted up concrete everywhere.

The speed limit is only 30, but when you hit someone w/your car; 30 all of a sudden feels like 60.

Jimbo (shoeless and in his white shirt) is riding his bike against the flow of traffic. The street is getting narrower, and narrower…. but I swear to you; Jimbo’s going at least 30 himself! There’s huge chunks of concrete on the street, but he rides through them like he’s gliding on paper…(coming towards my car)….

………………….right as he passes me, his tire slips----- AND HE SWERVES AWAY FROM THE CURB---- BUT UP AGAINST MY CAR!

BOOOOMMMMM!

“Ah!!” I shriek!!!!!

He hits my rear view mirror on the passenger side, and slides alongside my car….

The lady behind me slams on her brakes as Jimbo swerves back and forth to catch his balance.

I pull over at the gas station,….. but he keeps riding. He gets about 50 yards down the street and turns around to look at me.

He throws his hand up to wave…. but he keeps on riding.

And since he didn’t seem to care about it; I don’t either. Don’t get me wrong, I was truly shaken up for a minute; but the minute’s passed.

Look, he ain’t dead- so I don’t care.