Dangerous Compassions

worst trike ride ever


That trike ride where we got chased by a swarm of bees was pretty bad.  But believe it or not, that was not our worst trike ride ever.

The worst trike ride ever was much creepier.  At least bees are natural creatures that are supposed to do bee stuff!  They might need to leave a place and travel about, from time to time.  I don’t begrudge that.


The worst trike ride ever was like this.  We were cycling around our neighborhood one day–Ming on his bike, and me on my trike.  Ming has had that bike for a long time–longer than he’s had me.  I’m so glad that hunk of junk is still doing so well!  The seat got all weird last year, and we got Ming a new one.

Reminds me of our old Chevy Blazer BOB.  BOB stood for Bucket of Bolts.  It was a great “car-truck,” as my mom called it.  Then the seals on the engine were going bad, and it made no sense to fix it anymore.  It was a relic.  It harkened back to bygone days!

My trike was still fairly new at the time.  I think it was early in the morning, because there was almost no one out on the road.


There was a car driving down the street.  But the person in the passenger seat had their door open, and they were holding what appeared to be a large gun.  Gives a whole new meaning to riding shotgun!  But I think it was a machine gun.

Hmm, that seemed not ideal.  We rerouted and headed toward home.  I tried not to look at the car or the people in it.

What a grim feeling–the abandoned streets, my lovely fat ass on my gorgeous trike Bluebird of Friendliness Pure Bliss, and Ming’s medium ass on his old bike.  The scary part was seeing the car a few times again, as they circled the neighborhood.  There was a vibe of terror.

When I saw the car again, I was like, “Hmm, I hope this isn’t the time they use us as target practice.”  We just needed to get home.  Don’t make eye contact–pretend they are not there, and keep pedaling.

telling anyone

Not sure I really told anyone that happened.  It felt like a creepy incident best forgotten.

Were they looking for someone in particular?  Was this their idea of fun?  They didn’t seem happy like they were having fun.

Did they want to shoot strangers and chicken out?  Did the armor of God protect us somehow?  Maybe our ancestors whispered to the gun guy: let’s give those two a pass.

At any rate, bees need to relocate sometimes.  Humans don’t need to cruise historic neighborhoods looking for death.


Danger is everywhere.  It could be obvious, like a swarm of bees or a machine gun toting marauder.  Or it can be quiet and hidden, like kids being violenced / violated, and disabled people’s needs being disrespected.  Earthquake, fire, bodily malfunction.  Death is all around.

Thank goodness we’ve survived well into adulthood, doing the work of love.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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