Today I am going to the bike show. And I am extraordinarily excited. I've wanted to go for three years now, but haven't had the organizational skills, the wherewithal, or, let's face it, the balls to go before.
Then, a few weeks ago, Scott Waters B.T.B.E (Big Time Bike Enthusiast) mentioned it and i thought "NOW'S MY CHANCE!!". Shan S.P.B.H ia (Seeker of Pink Bike Helmet in absentia) has assured me that if I stay close by Willy E.F.W.E.M.E.Z.C (Exemplary Five-year-old Wearing Even More Exemplary Zelda Cap) I will get loads of free stuff.
Now. Seeing as I am a member of the M.E.S.I.C.R (Much Enthused But Stunningly Ignorant Cyclist Rabble), i find myself in a bit of a state. This is the big time. My "impressive" record of changing flats and brake cables will garner me nothing in this lions' den, but perhaps a derisive snicker, a lollipop, and directions to the ladies' loo. But it's a fact; much like talking to people about television, pop culture, or the daily news, I only know what things look like, not what they are called. And if you think my grave misdemeanours surrounding the subject of clipless pedals are bad, don't even bother asking how long I went without knowing what Seinfeld looks like.
And, in my feeble defense, I draw real good. I could tell you a very great deal about the minutiae of graphite pencils, were the need to arise.
But back to my bikeless lingo. Contemplating possible disguises of this grievous problem i considered a few things. A strategically placed shim on my wedding finger? An allen key dangling from my shoelace?
Then I relented. Like most states of nature, there's nothing to be done for the ignorance, except bask in it.
So, may your sympathies be with me, dear reader(s). And though I imagine a brown leather saddle might still be piteously out of my price range, please, Great Gods of Bicycle Pimping, PLEASE MAY THERE BE BLUE TIRES!!!!