posted on Jul, 2 2008 @ 09:50 PM
I have been eyeballing this thread all day, trying to think of a story I can tell. Not because I don't have any, but because I have many. Right there
is a Murphy story. Analysis paralysis to the maximus.
Okay, here's one. It took a month to get a job, and the job wasn't the greatest. The first day I go to ride my bicycle in the back tire is flat.
WTF? The bike is brand new. So I clumsily get the back tire off, which by the way is the annoying one to do. I get the tube out, and look for the
hole, I have these neat self adhesive patches. I find the hole, but I don't have a pump. I also realize that I don't have a tire gauge.
So, I drive up to the gas station... Thinking they they will have a gauge for me to use. I start to pump my tire up, and figure I should go get the
gauge. I go up to the counter and ask, the woman behind the counter flirts with me. Not bad, it's always good (the best part of this story actually).
She gives the gauge and I go outside.
Meanwhile a skinny dude in an old beat up truck pulls up and starts yo use the air (which was free, God bless free air). The dude starts muttering
about how he filled it up the other day and it must be the heat. I also figure the dude is tweaked out of his gourd. He tries to fill it up to the
right amount, but it won't for him. He starts bugging out. "there's something wrong with this, I think it's broken" he says quickly.
He goes inside, possibly causes a seen and leaves. I finish filling my tie up to the required 80 psi, and bring in the gauge. The flirty woman behind
the counter asks. "What was up out there, is it broken"? I replied "I think he was broken" referring to his obvious tweaked out state. I left and
had 15 minutes to spare before i had to ride my 4.5 miles to work.
Got my tire on, and left for work. Helmet on head (I've ridden enough to know that it's best to wear them and I am glad I did). I am sailing down
the hill, I mean cruising. The light on the crosswalk has the walking fellow so I choose to fly through. However a driver decides they will go to. I
haven't tested my front breaks yet. Now is the time to do so.
I squeeze them closed and nothing really happens... Quickly I remember I have a back break too. I squeezed them too, without releasing the front. I
miss the car, or it misses me because their breaks are dialed in, but My tires begin to tweak like the man back at the gas station. I am swaying on
this bike and luckily I reacted quickly. I didn't want to imitate super man in the middle of a road in front of a car, on a busy highway.
My quick maneuvering payed off, and I made it to work on time heart pumping and all. I live for this stuff, an adrenaline junkie bent on feeling life
in the moment. One can always get another pair of shorts. Now for the boring part. Works drills on, with robots swinging their arms dropping tedium
after tedium for 8 hours.
Work is down and I am gearing up. Helmet... check. Backpack... Check. I-pod playing loud trance music... check. My heart is pumping again, the thrill
of the ride dancing about in my mind like a spastic A.D.H.D. kid on a huge can of Monster Java Irish Blend. I go to leave, music blaring and bumping,
and wtf. My back tire is flat. Son of a biscuit. It's 12:15 AM, I am exhausted from work and my wretched tire is flat.
[edit on 7/2/2008 by eye open doors]