Bye Bye Bicylce
I feel a little bit heartbroken. I just sold my bike, and you know I don't have even a single photo of myself riding it. Just the stupid craigslist photo. I keep feeling like I want to go out to the garage, but why? No more sweet little blue and white Raleigh cruiser to take me up to campus or the Amazon Creek trail or even two blocks to god damn Safeway. The SUV of the bike world is how I thought of you. So big and chunky, if there was such a thing as compact parking spaces for bikes, you'd take up two of them. You didn't accelerate worth shit, and you were a bitch to peddle up hill. But damn, I looked good riding you.
No more carrying groceries on your handlebars, or one-handed steering while I try not to spill my cappuccino on both of us. Don't ever have to kick myself for buying a 2-by-3 foot sheet of watercolor paper and wondering how I'll get it home when all I had was you. Now some little old lady can ride you around the base of the hill by her house, 20 miles outside of anywhere anyone'd ever wanna live. Welcome to retirement, bike.
No more carrying groceries on your handlebars, or one-handed steering while I try not to spill my cappuccino on both of us. Don't ever have to kick myself for buying a 2-by-3 foot sheet of watercolor paper and wondering how I'll get it home when all I had was you. Now some little old lady can ride you around the base of the hill by her house, 20 miles outside of anywhere anyone'd ever wanna live. Welcome to retirement, bike.