Love and a Demon Goat Disguised as a Bicycle (a.k.a. I hate wind)

So two days in a row, I'm relatively late for work. I say relatively, since I can start anywhere between 9am to 10am, but generally am in the office at 9. This week, it was 10:00 on Tuesday, and 9:30 today.

Why, oh why do you ask? Damn good question. Become a slacker again? Right, like I ever wasn't a slacker. Decided the battle to free your people (drug war prisoners) wasn't worth getting up in the morning? Yeah right, NEVER SURRENDER!

First, Tuesday. Full hour later than usual. This is because I was hit. I don't call it an accident when the driver looks at you, and decides that getting past the double-parked car on the left, and the dumpster on the right, is more important that a bicyclist's health, and rams said bicyclist into the dumpster. Then burns off without stopping.

I shouldn't say I got hit, my demon goat of a bicycle, Chupecabra, took the brunt of it. Actually, I'm pretty sure the beast is mad at me, since I dumped the bike. There, I admitted it. I jumped off the back. Minor hand damage from the car hit, minor knee pain from landing hard on my left leg.

Chupecabra? All twisted up. Bad. Slightly ridable for a second, with an askew handlebar/front wheel combination, and something funny going on in the back. Actually, the hub and back mounts popped off, but I didn't find this out until the base of the Manhattan Bridge (Brooklyn side, where formerly I broke a rib), when the back wheel popped out completely.

Can I say I leave something cheap in New York? Of course I can! 99 cent stores are a godsend. Where else can you, for 1.98 plus tax ($2.15) can you pick up a set of allen wrenches and a mini-crescent, the very tools I needed to get Chupecabra in ridable condition. Took me about 15 minutes to get to the store, 5 minutes to find what I needed, and another 10 to get Chupecabra in working order.

Not complete working order. Somehow, the front rim got shaved. That meant flat tire this morning. Front tire. No matter, I was planning on installing a thorn-resistant tube and anti-puncture slimes... after I filed down the shaved rim (to prevent further side-panel flats). So, only a half hour late this morning, most of which I blame on the wind.

Let me rant here about the wind and riding a bicycle: how is it, no matter what direction you're riding on a bicycle, the goddamn wind is going against you? I switch from West-by-Southwest, to South, to West, to North, and every turn, it was like going directly into a wall of wind. I even turned back a block, and somehow, the wind was still against me! I'm blaming the east coast for that one.

Damn, I've rambled too much. Next week, something less mundane than bike crashes (which means, of course, that my good fortune of not wearing a helmet is no longer paying off, goddamnit!).

So... Where Was I, Again?

I guess back in California, though if my tales were told, I was a complete slacker. Barely saw anybody, barely did anything. I didn't even blog from the road, but I do have a caveat here: my new laptop died.

Actually, the shitfuck virus posing as an operating system, Windows XP, decided to immolate itself in a most inglorious fashion, namely in front of an attractive woman, making me look the fool (trying to explain why this goddamn laptop is so great, when it won't even boot).

In the meantime, I've installed Ubuntu Netbook Remix, and outside of the usual linux-related-I-need-to-be-a-full-time-geek-to-fix-the-glitches shit, the fucker is running smooth, so I'm mostly happy again. Except for that one button that turns off the wireless (for airports) that causes the entire system to freeze (hardware interrupt problem). Outside of that, I'm all good.

I did catch two rides from Craigslist, and I gotta say, I came out like a champ. I'm a little concerned post-ride though, because in both instances, extremely attractive women were giving me a ride for fair price. Why does this concern me? Because I'm a goddamn ex-con, damnit!

Actually, I was more concerned that within a couple of hours, I wound up driving said vehicles, with the person supplying the ride going to sleep. This means that I, obviously, exude a certain level of trust and comfort that is totally at odds with what I tried to accomplish as a seedy, dangerous ex-con.

Meaning, much like the school of alcoholism, I've totally fucked it up, and wasted those 7 years I could have spent becoming a dangerous individual. I still like beer though, and I still can drop a pig in under 30 seconds. I'll take both as a consolation prize.

Regardless, I have nothing but praise for the rideshare program with Craigslist: they done me great. Cheap rides, beautiful women, and control of the car stereo, a most coveted power in all circles, not to mention nearly-anonymous ones.

Anyways, enough of that. I spent a lot of time with my family, which was a real change up. First time we've all been together since before I got sent up the river (or whatever you want to call it).

Now? Now I'm back, so all four of you will be entertained once again with the random exploits that I regularly undergo in these mean NYC streets.