The story of (one of) my bike crashes on the streets of China during a typhoon. Go on and dig it:
I lived in China for two years and almost died a few times. Mostly because I did a lot of jay-running across urban intersections, with the city buses hurtling around. It was like being in the asteroid field in The Empire Strikes Back. I dug it, rushing through the sprawls, because at that point in life I perceived life as being just a small step removed from an action movie.
Good thing I was young and immortal, and that nothing bad ever happens to young white people. Bad things only happened to other people. My buddy Cameron was on a bus when it hit a guy in the crosswalk at thirty-five m.p.h. and killed him. City workers had to come spray the blood off the windows, and then they just kept on driving. Rush hour’s a bitch.
I was a teacher in the southern city of Shenzhen…
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