Yeah, so I finally got doored. Twenty years of riding all over Boston, and someone finally got me. Fortunately, he only caught the outside of my knee, as I threw myself into a position roughly mirroring the shape of his door to try to avoid being taken down completely.
I yelled, but didn't call him any names.
He said he was sorry. I rode on. My knee feels like someone pinged it from the side with a ball peen hammer.
But I'm grateful to have escaped mostly intact.
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