Saturday, June 17, 2006

I was frustrated.

I had been chasing phantom garage sales all the way home from Walmart. Every sign proved either outdated or sadistically misleading. The garage sales I did find were pitiful at best. I had decided that the one I was currently after would be the last one. I would go home and admit defeat. I would watch a movie to distract myself from a failed saturday afternoon.

I have been on the prowl for a bicycle, and not just any bicycle, a piece of crap bare basics 26" minimum for under $20 that I can strip and modify and generally completely deface. I have been unlucky in this venture, thus my feverish hunt for garage sales.

I arrived at the final house, and the sign in front directed me to the back alley. I drove around, parked between the balloons, only to discover that there was no sale of any kind. I gritted my teeth and returned to my car.

This is when the middle aged native guy rode up on a bike. It seemed that he was also headed for the balloons, but he arrived beside me, and there we were. Two people with a thwarted desire to go to a garage sale.

So I said to him "wanna sell me your bike?"

And he said, "okay, how much?"

"Twenty bucks."


I handed the man a twenty, and he helped me load the bike into the trunk, the front wheel hanging out the back. He asked me for a ride, since he was now bike-less. I happily drove him to the liquor store.

I love my neighborhood.

Now I have a bike. Only the seat is too high, and it seems to be too bound up to go any lower. So there's that.

Oh my gosh, I'm watching Joe Versus the Volcano, and there's this shot of Meg Ryan passed out on top of a floating piece of furniture, and Tom Hanks in the water holding onto the side of it, and it's exactly like the end of the titanic, right before Leo tragically sinks to his death.

I can't wait to go to bed.
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