So I’m locking up my trusty steed at my bank today and I hear some guy dropping F-bombs like a B-52 over Vietnam.
Before I turned around to see what all the fuss was about I began to get a bit insulted (I’m kinda proper that way). When I looked, what I saw was this dude in one of those huge pick-up trucks that seats 8 comfortably and has a 92 foot long bed. He was attempting to manuver it into a rather tight parking spot.
I watched him for a bit and probably scowled a little at his choice of language. But basically being a coward I didn’t say anything and attempted to shrink as he waked by.
When I did look up, he was right there. We made eye contact, he glared at me and said…”I should be on one of those fucking bicycles! Then I wouldn’t have trouble parking”.
I just grinned. And secretly agreed. As I was riding away I thought to myself, “This’ll make a good post”.
Jacque – Out
P.S. I’ve got a couple of posts in the hopper. Surprisingly enough they’re all about bicycling. A review of the new route to work and one about the ride home. In keeping with my preference of only one post per day ya’ll will just have to wait.