The Monkey and I have been through all kinds of hell this winter. Hundreds of miles through every kind of garbage condition. You might hear this on a typical day in January:
Pat: "Wanna go, Monkey? It's super nasty out. Maybe we should stay in."
Monkey: "I don't care, I'm all about you. Let's ride!"
Pat: "I love you, Monkey."
Monkey: "I love you more!"
I really, truly thought I loved the Monkey above all other bikes. As soon as I thought winter was ending (even though it turns out this is the year of the everlasting winter), I splurged on some Schwalbe Big Apple tires to convert my bestest winter bike to my bestest spring bike. They even have reflective sidewalls. So cool:
Well, I hate myself for even saying this, but even with the new tires, the Monkey is, ummm . . . . a little . . . well, uhhh . . .
To make matters worse, the light, skinny, sexy bike has been in touch. I've tried to ignore the flirtation. But I'm weak and I've spent the last couple of nights with it. Bathing it. And dorking it out with a basket. We have a connection that I have never experienced with any other bike. I know I've said this before, but this time I mean it. I think this bike might be the one.
6 comments:
Pat Pat Pat. I would think you would know better to call a loved one "overweight". You should show the chosen one how much you love it buy going to the store and putting a six-pack of beer in the dork basket (DB) and then riding home.
I'm *sure* you/the Monkey will receive a bunch of whistles and wolf calls.
I'd probably bat my eyelashes at it and feint.
"I love you, Monkey."?
"I love you more."?
Yep, it must've been a long winter.
Hank, I've seen this monkey rock Pat's world. It's a beautiful thing. The monkey puts out.
One the one hand, you're creeping me out. But on the other hand, not only do you have other fingers, but I've kinda done the same thing with my commuter, my training bike, and my race bike. Winter = 100% commuter bike. Spring rain was 50/50. And now it's really hard to ride the commuter to work when I'd rather be on my race bike. I kind of feel like a dork riding a +$2K bike 4.5 miles to work and back...
Jacque, thanks for injecting a little logic. I've "corrected" my post.
Hank, like John said, bike love is a beautiful thing. In a Jack Nicholson/Shelly Duvall kind of way.
John, that was a way fun ride and one of my best memories of this winter.
Anon, life is short - damn the critics, ride the race bike.
As we all know, there can't be "the one" when it comes to bikes. There might(!) be a maximum number, but it sure ain't one.
Jerry
Post a Comment