When I was nine, I rode my bike everywhere. I was fearless.
Then when I was 18, 19 I had a nasty spill on a bike which resulted in a nasty scar on my left wrist and a healthy fear of riding bordering on phobia.
I didn’t get on a bike again until January 2005 when I was on vacation in Maui with a bunch of friends and we did the sunrise bike ride down Haleakala. I whinged the entire way. My wrists were killing me. Something just seemed wrong. I was unhappy and fairly certain I was going to die. It wasn’t until around mile 30 that one of my friends noticed that the handles on my bike were twisted wrong and fixed it. It had been so long since I was on a bike, I had just assumed that there was something wrong with me. It never occurred to me that the bike was messed up.
Yeah, I’m a rocket scientist.
Stuart has been after me to start riding, but I really don’t want to. You have to have serious balls to cycle in this town and I just don’t got ‘em.
His bike is a fold up military mountain bike that is folded up more than is used. Yesterday he took it out for a bit and I met him at The Nightingale for dinner.
I’ve been on a healthy kick since I came back from my moms. I’m trying to only eat fish and lots of fruits and veggies and I didn’t drink all week. I’ve decided that I would let myself drink one day a week, but that didn’t mean I could get lashed and Saturday was going to be my day this week.
Cut to:
Three pints of ale and a glass of wine from 5 PM to last call. Isn’t the most I have ever drank, but it isn’t the least.
Stuart and I had had a stupid fight earlier in the evening, but we had made up. I mention this to explain why when he suggested that I try out his bike when there was no one around on our walk home I agreed. The drink in me also didn’t hurt.
Then bad things happened.
1. The bike is too big for me. This will be important later.
2. I try to peddle, but something isn’t working quite right. This will be important later.
3. Stuart starts pushing me like I’m five, but he is pushing me too fast so I shriek at him to let go.
4. He lets go.
5. I try to peddle. I can’t.
6. The bike gets wobbly due to lack of forward movement.
7. The bike is so big and I am so short, I can’t get my feet down on the ground.
8. I fall over and go boom.
After Stuart lifted the bike off of me and made sure nothing was broken or bleeding and after he texted and twittered the event, he told me that he had forgotten to unfold the pedals.
I feel like I have been hit by a train. Not a big train, but a little one. I’m fine other my arm feels dislocated and I have a serious mondo bruise on my arm and elbow that I can tell is going to be really pretty in a day or so.
Like I said. I’m a rocket scientist.
*Duckie in Pretty in Pink
September 2nd, 2008 at 3:59 am
(Looks like Stuart Riccardo is at it again)
Stuuuu-Art. Uuuu got some ’splainen’ to-do!