Saturday, April 24, 2010

Dear Nemesis, er I mean Bike,

Dear Nemesis, er I mean Bike,

Why is it that when I am on you I lose all sense of balance? Why can't you work for me the same way you can for my mom, who is apparently the bike whisperer?

I ride you, and fill your tires with air, and in return, I get a sore butt, I tip over when I don't unclip my feet from the pedals in time, and my mom still kicks my butt beyond what you can possibly understand.

Do you like being called Nemesis? I got it from that Star Trek movie title. I forget what the movie is about because I'm not really a Star Trek kind of girl, but that last movie had some hot guys in it so I watched it. And now I'm suddenly reminded of how when I was in high school there were people who were so into it that they had Star Trek shirts they wore to school.

I really don't get the interest in it, I only know and remember like 2 or 3 names from the whole movie: Spock, Captain Kirk, and Scotty. But then again, it's ok. I can't be expected to remember when I never even watched the TV series.

But back to you bike. You are not a Star Trek item. That means that you should not consider yourself flyable while I am on you. Nor should you run over things like a sticker bush because I am totally incompetent and I have to take you to the bike shop to get your tire change.

Please be a better, nicer bike in the future. Make yourself something with turbo speed so I can keep up with my mom. Don't tip over and send me flying, and please avoid those thorns. I am merely a woman, you must be the bike I know you can be.


Your riding partner Les

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