Tuesday, July 31, 2007
The tale of the bike: the poor little Peugeot, purchased on the LES last year, languished outside my house for months through the winter of 2006/2007. Its original saddle was stolen the first night. I got a new one and bolted it on. The lock and chain cost as much as the bike and weigh a lot more. And after a couple of rides on it was I was freaked by crazy people and all the ways one can die on a bike. So when Marijke, bless her 6'1" Dutch heart, arrived for her internship with HWandV this spring, she looked at it hopefully and off she went. That bike went all over New York, to places I've never even heard of. Night and day. I was in awe and humbled. Then Natalie took it over. Now so thoroughly jealous I rode it back from Park Slope to Cobble Hill last weekend, after she left for Denmark for two weeks. And over the Brooklyn Bridge I went this morning to work, up through City Hall and Chinatown and at last to Forsyth Street. It was a lot of fun. I also think I have very high testosterone levels as a result. Now I know why Natalie's language would make a marine blush. She rides the bike so much! Mother F%**$#!! people are CRAZY. And STUPID! But it's fun. The bike is making very interesting rattling noises which are new. What did you girls do to it?? I guess it's the potholes. But I'm hooked. And still alive. Touch wood. Put me on a runaway horse any day.