OT (apologies): Playing records (again)
Dan O
Don't Shoot Me I'm Only the Piano Player (so glad to see Elton happy
these days)
(honey roasted peanuts and malt liquor for dinner, then bed, pedal to
work tomorrow - steep hills hungover - whj)
Dan O
Well that wasn't so bad (the morning ride, that is - the tipsy posting
jag *was* pretty bad). Got up at ~2:00 AM, out the door at ~4:30
short sleeves and sandals, nice ride in cagers CM all still asleep in
bed, bailed from work at noon Friday, groovy summer ride home w/
tailwind, two-and-a-half whopping BLT's and cold Guinness for lunch,
crashed for a nap until ~8:00, got everything else a man could want
Friday night ;-)
After leaving work Friday, I rode to the bookstore, which is going out
of business. I had a couple of gift cards with credit to use or
lose. The place was a madhouse, and I had no bike lock, so took my
bike in with me. Negotiated the place no problem, negotiated the
long, long checkout line with my bike, got all the way up to the
checkout, shere I had to lift bike over a perambulator that was
blocking the aisle. So as not to do the same, I parked my bike a
little ahead of me - partially blocking the passage around the end of
the counter (figured I'd be out of there quick and probably wouldn't
be an issue).
But then this old lady who I guess worked there comes up to go behind
the counter and looks at my bike for a second, then starts to reach
for it. I said (in my full bike clothes and helmet), "I got it", and
grabbed the saddle to pull the bike back toward me. But she already
had her hand on the top tube, and was intent on taking the bike
somewhere else (what's she gonna do with it when she gets wherever
she's going with it? It has no kickstand. I'm twenty-five miles from
home; if she drops it and bends the hanger I'm substantially screwed
*and* pissed.)
So there's like a million people waiting to checkout. My bike has
been less trouble than any of the many perambulators and what not in
the store so far; I've been pleasant and civil and now there's a
little tug-of-war going on between me and this lady for my bike.
Now *another* little old lady nearby (customer) sees what's happening
and decides to help the first lagy wrest my bike from me, grabbing the
handlebars and pulling forward. I say again, "I've got it". They
both hang on, resisting my pull on the saddle. My anxiety starts
rising. I'm standing there looking both of them right in the eye and
they won't let go. Then the dam breaks, "Get your fucking hands off -
both of you!"
Then they let go :-)
AMuzi
> Now *another* little old lady nearby (customer) sees what's happening
> and decides to help the first lagy wrest my bike from me, grabbing the
> handlebars and pulling forward. I say again, "I've got it". They
> both hang on, resisting my pull on the saddle. My anxiety starts
> rising. I'm standing there looking both of them right in the eye and
> they won't let go. Then the dam breaks, "Get your fucking hands off -
> both of you!"
> Then they let go :-)
"OK, pal that's it. We're closing the store."
= V I C T O R Y !
I wish every petty martinet who carps about my bike also
closes up shop.
--
Andrew Muzi
<www.yellowjersey.org/>
Open every day since 1 April, 1971
Andre Jute
The solution is to buy a bike that looks like BMW money. Uniformed man
holding glass doors. "Through here, sir. Just park your bike anywhere
in the mall. I'll stay to watch it until you return." Unfortunately,
that's at a low-(for all I know zero-)crime mall. Or, the security
guard's proactive attitude may be why it is low-crime. -- AJ