We were riding back and decided to grab a beer on the way. Stopped at an interesting local Rogers Park hang out. We were a little put-off by the townies that were casually consuming our space, and only stayed for one drink.
Out the door and swinging my foot over my bike, I fall flat on my back and begin laughing hysterically. Steve is on his bike, shaking his head at me, waiting for me to regain my composure.
Seconds later a older gentlemen walks out the bar and straight over to me. He begins his rant by clarifying that he is a lawyer and has been riding his bike for over seven years now, for a cumulative 2000 miles. He continues on to exclaim that I am a perfect example why young people need to wear helmets and be more cautious. By this time the entire bar has gathered around the windows to watch.
Not sure what to say, but quite certain that now is not the time to check to see whether my indian food will still be edible tomorrow, though that is all I could think about.
Thankfully it caught my fall, and though squishy, the dal and rice was still delightful the next day. I guess I should be more careful, but he should also be less serious.