Well, Look Who Came Crawling Back!
By Your Bike, 200 S. State St. Bike Rack, Outside Buffalo Wild Wings
If there's one thing precious in this world, though, it's life, even if that life means just being left here by old Jerry Longlegs to count the days away like some prisoner locked in a cell of negligence. I'm so glad the weather's finally getting warm again, I think the last of the ice has frozen off my handlebars. Boy, my reflectors were so hard for a period there, they probably could've cut diamonds!
I'll bet I see old master Longlegs soon, that SOB. He's got to get some young Huffy to carry him from class to class now that spring has sprung--well, I'll be. Look who came crawling back!
Where've you been for the past couple months, old chum? Couldn't work up the energy to come pick up your bike that you left on your way to the Melon Fest on Ann--for four long months? Oh, was it a hangover the next day? Last time I checked, hangovers, they go away after a little while. But four months - oh yeah, that must have been a really bad hangover. Did you have a good time at the MelonFest? Hey, did ya get laid?
Boy, gettin' laid. Reminds me of this gorgeous blonde I once had on a conjugal visit when I was still doin' time over at the IMSB. I worked her pretty hard in third gear, until she was outta breath, then I eased her back to a decent heart-thumping with some smooth resistance. She asked me to feel her pulse, she was going so hard. We were sweating and dripping on each other like two dumb kids. When it was all over, she put her melons up on my handlebars while she caught her breath. Boy, doin' time wasn't all bad.
Look, kid, I understand hangovers. When I was up on blocks, spinnin' for hours straight while a bunch of big girls sat on me and listened to Party Tunes For The New World Order, I got pretty worn out. So worn out that when I got off the IMSB blocks on good behavior, I was all busted up inside - needed new rotors, a new shift, a nice oil rubdown - common amenities, you'd think, but the people at the IMSB don't understand suffering.
Speaking of which, I still get nightmares about the sounds that came from the resistance section all night while I tried to sleep. They'd be up all hours, whinin' in the dark about not gettin' wiped down, about having their gears all out of line, about how their weights are too heavy, they can't carry them anymore. I watched once in the moonlight while the janitors pummeled an abdominal machine until he was doubled over in total submission. And you haven't feared for your life until you've been spotted by some dumbbell who thinks he's bigger than you, even though his exact weight is printed on his side. Don't bother trying to explain it to them, though, you'll never get it through their heads.
One thing I can tell you is to never do any time in the fitness world. It changes you. I got a couple buddies from the treadmill section who've never gotten back on their feet.
Anyhow, the people at the Campus Cyclery took me in after I got out, even though I'd done time. They put me out in the floor, making eyes at everybody who came in - I was in pretty good shape outwardly after all that spinnin', even though I was dead inside. Long story short, I understand you were hungover the next day - that Melon Party did sound pretty great. But four months and still no word? That's negligence, buddy.
Yeah, it has been that long, and don't look at me with that relief in your eyes. And don't even think about coming near me, I've got people coming by later with chaincutters, we're going to ride around and kick over some trash barrels! Boy, how I would've loved for some old hobo to steal me - I still got that dangerous streak in me where I like being the accomplice to trash can theft, or the occasional jaywalk. But you had me all chained up like an iron whore. I had good people eyin' me up and down every day, probably wondering the same thing - "What kind of Jerry Dumbass Longlegs would leave a bike in that condition out in the freezing cold?"
Oh, you're having trouble with the combination? It's 4 - that stands for four months out here - 119 - that's the stretch in days - and 3 - that's how many minutes of safety I'm gonna give you before I toss your dumb ass in front of a Link Bus!
Well, you figured it out, nice job. Some memory you've got there. You'd think with that kind of memory, you'd also have considered bringing me in from the cold instead of leaving me out like some Oliver Twist character to go spinnin' for nickels. But there's no justice in this world for an old two-speeder like me. You know, bikes are people too!
Ok, Johnny Longlegs, we'll let bygones be bygones for now. Just ask my old gang, the cardio section. I'm a real heartbreaker. I still got a few tricks up my basket. Let's go try riding up that hill over by Fuller St. on the highest gear. Just when you think you've made it to the top, BINGO BANGO, your balls are cracked like walnuts!
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