Bostonist APB!

Bostonist prefers to dedicate our precious server space to articles that serve the greater good, but sometimes events force our hand and we feel obliged to write on matters more personal. So it is today, as we ask you, dear public, for help in solving what we believe to be a most dastardly crime (since it was committed against us). To wit, some evildoer, perhaps wishing to make a definitive statement of protest against Bike Week, hit Bostonist as we were riding our bicycle home from work in downtown Boston. Head injuries being what they are, we have no recollection of the offender (or of the incident at all) and the police found no witnesses on the scene. However, a careful forensic examination of our bicycle suggests that the front wheel was struck by something large and car-like, which dovetails with our personal practice of not slamming our face against the pavement for no reason.

That said, Bostonist is looking for anyone who may have been in the vicinty of Cambridge Street and Grove Street (on the east side of Beacon Hill, conveniently close to MGH) at 8:00 p.m. on Thursday evening, and who may have seen a tall, goofy-looking character on a black bicycle get turned into a tall, lumpy-looking character lying on the street. We can't offer you any reward (aside from the knowledge that you've helped the cause of justice), but if you are the perpetrator of this foul deed, we promise not to punch you in the neck so long as you are sufficiently apologetic.

Additionally, we have a few words of advice stemming from our up-close-and-personal encounter with the asphalt of Cambridge Street: (1) Always wear a helmet - we did, and it probably saved our brain, if not our face; (2) Make a habit of knowing what the date is; that way when the paramedics ask you easy questions to figure out if you've suffered brain damage, the whole procedure won't take so long (we never know what the date is, and after our accident, having lost a few minutes of memory, we weren't sure where we were; the only question they asked that we could answer was, "Who's the president?" We said, "Oy, that f***ing guy!" and the paramedics knew we were OK); (3) If you're going to get into a bicycle accident, don't wear your favorite dress shirt, because paramedics, for all the good they do, apparently don't know about buttons, and they will take your shirt off using scissors.