And the wheel goes round…
I made the industrious leap today of riding my bike to work. As a testament to my complete patheticness (pathecism?) and the fact that I’ve not set butt on a bike in over three years, I feel a little drunk. In reality I’m not; it’s 10 am, even I haven’t started down that slippery slope yet. But I’m a little weavy and slow reacting- ironically, both things that are seriously detrimental to bike riding.
I’ve realized why I’ve not ridden a bike in three years: a. my bike in minnesota got stolen, but that’s whole different story, and b. my bike is really crap. Someone’s managed to take the top brakes off, so now I have to be in lance armstrong race mode in order to stop my bicycle. I can only use one of the brakes because the other one makes a noise so ungodly that I’d rather die speeding into oncoming traffic than employ it. The handlebars are far too low, so I’ve now got a crick in my neck that may offset any good the riding did for my thighs and ass. Also the seat appears to be made of concrete; I’ll be blaming any low fertility later in life on today’s journey up Western Avenue.
Speaking of drinking though, I spent a good deal of yesterday in a pub with Jessica, Neuner, and the Chicago’s recently returned prodigal son, Greg Moy. Nothing beats sitting around with pints in the afternoon sun (with alternating downpour). Eventually, we wound back up at jw’s and I was made to watch “Curb Your Enthusiasm.” It’s like someone took all the really not funny episodes of Seinfield, fired all the good actors and replaced them with bad ones, and then changed the name to “Curb Your Enthusiasm.” Just not my sense of humor I guess.
Okay, time to stagger back into the office kitchen and get some more water.
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