A little red Japanese coupe of some sort I'd spotted the second I let the clutch out came screaming into the intersection from the right, oblivious to the red light until it was too late to do much except scrub off some speed. I braked, hard, and was choosing my best option when I heard squealing tires behind me. I hoped it was just my back wheel, and thought "Fuck. Today?"
If you're at all anxious at this point, rest assured, my nickname is Lucky for a reason.
Somehow, the little red Japanese coupe of some sort hung the tightest right turn I've ever seen, and suddenly there was nothing but open lane ahead of me. The driver made several apologetic waves and was clearly freaking right the hell out, so I just waved as I passed her. No harm, no foul.
Which is right about when the adrenaline rush settled down and I discovered I'd braked hard enough to mash my nuts against the gas tank. Note to self - don't ever do that again.
I was quite awake for the next two miles of my ride, and good thing too, because some jackass turned left in front of me. He just stared at me with a stupid expression on his face, and got a much less friendly gesture from me than the driver of the little red coupe.
You know, I'm aware that riding has risks. I'm aware that I'm invisible on the road. But I'm not accustomed to having so many "oh shit!" moments within a couple miles.