New Bicycle
Yesterday, after work, I went to buy a bicycle. I visited a repair shop not far from here a couple of times last week and each time I was there the owner promised me he'd have a nice second hand bicycle for me that he said would be very ugly. The owner is a refugee, an enormous black man with big bulging muscles. It has become custom here to teach refugees who are allowed to stay here how to fix bicycles. Everyone rides bicycles and there are never enough bicycle shops. I remember I had a flat tire once and I went to three different bicycle repair shops and they all looked at me as if I asked something really strange. "Can you fix my tire for me? This is a bicycle repair shop, is it not?" There are so few bicycle repair shops that the repair men will only fix your bicycle for you if you bought your bicycle in that very shop. You get a membership sticker on your bicycle when you buy it.
*sigh* What is this country coming to?
BUT, for me this problem was fixed as soon as the big muscled man established his shop in this neighbourhood. Of course he kept promising me an ugly bicycle and each time I came he didn't have one. But last Friday this problem was solved. He said: "You really want an ugly bicycle?" "Yes, I want an ugly bicycle." He thought it very amusing. I am very serious about the ugliness of my bicycles. You see, bicycles get stolen. Especially pretty ones. Ugly bicycles get stolen too, but I always hope that it will last me a little longer than a pretty bicycle. Also ugly bicycles are cheaper. Since bicycles are a yearly expense I'd rather not buy an expensive one.
So now I have an ugly bicycle and a very fancy new lock. I have a rusty piece of iron with two wheels and a shiny, pretty lock. A lock that cost me almost as much as the bicycle itself.
Today I cycled to the city center to buy black trousers. On my way back I passed the bicycle shop and the big muscled man stood outside, smiling. He waved at me with his tools, laughed and asked how I liked my ugly bicycle. I waved back and said I adored my ugly bicycle. I really do.
*sigh* What is this country coming to?
BUT, for me this problem was fixed as soon as the big muscled man established his shop in this neighbourhood. Of course he kept promising me an ugly bicycle and each time I came he didn't have one. But last Friday this problem was solved. He said: "You really want an ugly bicycle?" "Yes, I want an ugly bicycle." He thought it very amusing. I am very serious about the ugliness of my bicycles. You see, bicycles get stolen. Especially pretty ones. Ugly bicycles get stolen too, but I always hope that it will last me a little longer than a pretty bicycle. Also ugly bicycles are cheaper. Since bicycles are a yearly expense I'd rather not buy an expensive one.
So now I have an ugly bicycle and a very fancy new lock. I have a rusty piece of iron with two wheels and a shiny, pretty lock. A lock that cost me almost as much as the bicycle itself.
Today I cycled to the city center to buy black trousers. On my way back I passed the bicycle shop and the big muscled man stood outside, smiling. He waved at me with his tools, laughed and asked how I liked my ugly bicycle. I waved back and said I adored my ugly bicycle. I really do.