JAN 23, 2009 – 12:00AM

I saw a couple events around the start of the year that started me thinking about the consumption of adult beverages in conjunction with cycling.

Each was funny — or a little scary, depending on your point of view — and though both happened around the first of the year, neither, disturbingly, was on the national day of drinking, New Year’s Eve.

I witnessed both on bike rides into work.

First, I saw a man riding a bike with a large cardboard box balanced precariously on his handlebars. His bars were rotated all the way up, facing backward. We approached a four-way stop sign perpendicular to each other, and he didn’t give me so much as a glance. He was, however, awfully interested in the car already at the intersection across from me.

Though it was the car’s turn to go, the driver took a look at the other cyclist slowing — but obviously in no rush to stop — and waved him through. As he cranked through the intersection, chain squeaking, I noticed the box was a case of Budweiser, though the bottles inside weren’t Bud. They were something a little more potent, and as the cyclist pedaled through the intersection, he berated the driver: “Why didn’t you look up before I had to slow down? Geez. Thanks a lot.” Except he didn’t say, “Geez.” Or “Thanks a lot,” for that matter.

Then he continued on his two-wheeled liquor-store run.

Two days later, I rode by a liquor store/gas station, and noticed a man trying to mount a bicycle. He leaned it way over to swing his leg over, then forgot to straighten it up again before trying to pedal away. Oops. Hello, ground.

He stayed down for a while before trying again, with similar results.

I can only assume he was plowed.

It’s possible he simply never had learned to ride a bike and naturally chose 9 p.m. on a Saturday to try to learn — in a liquor-store parking lot, as his buddies hooted and hollered from the curb. And I suppose it’s possible he never had learned to walk in a straight line, either.

His folly points out one thing about CWI (Cycling While Intoxicated) — it’s darned hard to do.

Any old moron can throw back a few, settle into a nice, comfy bucket seat and drive when he shouldn’t.

But CWI has its own built-in limitations.

It’s possible to pedal a little buzzed, but get too tipsy and you tip over.

I wish it worked that way for cars.

As a guy who spends a fourth of his commute riding, oh, about the same time the bars close, I don’t relish sharing the road with drunks.

The thought that some hoser too drunk to drive couldn’t even make it out of the parking lot without falling over brings a bit of a smile to my face.

Kinda like watching that poor schlub trying to ride the other day.

Then the thought he might have thrown the bike on the rack and driven away sobers me right up.