Friday, September 19, 2008

Friday night training ride

I actually stopped a guy in his tracks. Of course, I don't blame him...what would you do? Here's a guy riding by on a tandem bike, coming out of the dark, yelling..."Free mustache rides!"

He stop and stammered..."Free musta....oh wow, uh...that's awesome....I guess"

But I'm jumping ahead, let me rewind to the start of the night:

Lisa's parents were in town, and I was planning on going to dinner with them. Rather than drive over (because I knew I was going to have a few glasses of wine) I decided to ride my vintage tandem bike over. Being that it was her mom's birthday, I told them I would stop for a birthday pie down the street at the Marie Callenders. It was a beautiful ride over, the sun was setting, the roads were fairly empty, and everyone I passed looked like they were finally unwinding the noose from a week's worth of work.

I decided on two pies, and got back on the bike to ride the two miles to her house. Here I was, the hero; pulling up on an awesome bike carrying the nights dessert. Right as this thought floated through my head, like a flash, I went down.

Yes, I fell.

The chain came off the bike, with one hand holding the pies I had no choice but to eat concrete on my left side. You've all been there- hit the ground and then jump up so quickly from a mix of adreline and embarrassment that it's even worse than if you just laid there. Quickly I assessed the damage: bleeding and raw elbow, with the tops of both feet (in flip flops) raw and oozing red. What do I do? I'm going to 'meet the parents' and I've not only completely crushed dessert, but I'm going in with a mutilated arm...after turning away from her dad for the first 2 minutes, I realized I was going to fess up. Especially when they took a look at the pies.

I cleaned myself up, with several doses of hydrogen peroxide; and powered through dinner. Don't worry, I made sure to pour with a heavy hand when it came to my own wine glass.
















Leaving dinner, I felt like I couldn't leave well enough alone with this bike...in fact, my actual thoughts were "this bike owes me" and to pay me back I brought my tandem down the strand towards the Hermosa Pier. Being the most immature 30-year old I know, and one who love attention, I realized quickly that calling out to people as I rode by "free rides" wasn't giving me the punch or reaction I wanted. So I changed my greeting to "free mustache rides"...a calling that got a much better reaction.

As I rode down the packed pier, I yelled my greeting to several groups. Coming to the stop light, I noticed a group of guys with buzz cuts and 'Fire Academy' t-shirts on. One of the was obviously drunker than me, and he stumbled over and declared "I'm going for a ride on that bike."

me: "Ha ha don't get any ideas. No one's getting on this bike."
Buzz cut: "Oh yeah, I'm getting on!"
Me: (grabbing his wrist as he tries to mount the back of the bike) "No really, you're not getting on."
BC: "Why not? I'm getting on" (twisting his arm to try and free himself from my grip.)
Me: (maintaining a deathgrip on his arm) "Listen to me...you're not getting on. I'm sorry, I know it'd be fun but it's not happening."
Me: (Maintaining a death grip on his wrist, and simultaneously walking the bike across the street, while dragging BC with me.)
BC: "Why can't we be friends? Let go of me and let's be friends!"
Me: (stopping across the street in front of a crowded restaurant, while holding onto his wrist) "Look...it's not happening. I'll guarantee you're not getting on this bike, so what do you want to do?"
BC: (Takes a picture with his camera-phone, makes a stupid face, and jogs away)

Crisis avoided, why not walk the bike home? I'd say that the tandem and I were even tonight. It got me good by spilling me onto the street, but paid me back with a pretty good story.

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