Riding home from another 12 hour shift, 18:00 - 06:00, delighting in the mild albeit wet weather and easy riding when a pedestrian wanders into my path (which just so happens to be on the separated bike lane)...

and we go down. He is an average sized male and he yelps in surprise and pain as my 6'3" 210lb (on my 30+lb (probably closer to 40lbs) commuter rig) frame slams into him. We both go down. Hard. He's able to get up first as I tenderly test my limbs for injuries.

Does he offer to help me up? Offer an apology? Make a move to get help? Pretty sure that's a negative. I'm livid and cursing up a storm as I extricate myself from my bike laying at an odd angle in the wet running gutter slop. I'm demanding he explain his thought processes as he circles about unsure of himself and now asking me repeatedly if I'm okay. Now I'm getting annoyed. Where the frak is that cop I saw two blocks ago? A couple of people slow to rubberneck. A fellow bike commuter stops to ask if I'm okay. I now realize that my pylon is quickly hobbling away to a nearby skytrain station. He's already a half-block away and disappearing through the entrance.
I tell the commuter I'm fine. He asks if my bike is okay as I begin picking up pieces: busted air-zound, busted computer bracket, busted rear blinky, busted ergon g3 grip. I tell him the bike is fine. He wishes me luck and is on his way.

My left knee is really stiffening up and beginning to ache. My left hand hurts. Right knee is (very) mildly abraded. Ouch.

I pick myself, the bike and all the pieces up, check brakes, etc. all seems, okay, straight and true. I mount the bike and...

Frak.

My front wheel is warped. My Handspun Pavement Series 2 dyno wheel. I love that wheel (as much as a man can love a wheel. It's not like I'm weird about it.).

Yarb. I'm home now. Heavily medicated. Icing my knee. Hating on jaywalking pedestrians. Back to work in ten and a half hours. Got two more twelve hour shifts to go.

Some days it doesn't pay to get out of bed.

B.