Thursday, August 04, 2005

Best Laid Plans

Still elated from yesterday's ride, I decided to do it again this morning. I didn't have to start work until 10:45. My bike needed a tune-up again. So I decided to bike from my house to where my cab lives (about an hour and a half - for me - north). I intended to ride to my cab, toss the bike in the trunk and take it back to Country Club Mall, where the bike store is, then drive home, shower, eat breakfast, and go to work.


I left home at 8:10AM, slightly behind schedule, but not dangerously so. I rode and rode, braving the cars along the highway, being very rudely cut off by a transport truck driver, finally making it safely to the bike path that starts half an hour from home and follows alongside the highway to the mall. I was still on that path at 9:00AM, five minutes from Country Club, still 20-30 minutes from my car, when my cell phone rang. It was my boss, calling to advise me that my cab was at the garage - three blocks from my house in the opposite direction. I'm afraid I shrieked a bit, which was unfair, considering that she had thought she was doing me a favour by leaving the cab there, thus saving me a drive out to her house.

Once I regained my composure, we arranged that I would go ahead and take my bike to the shop, repair to the nearby Starbucks, and wait for this lady to pick me up and take me back to the garage. She had to take her baby to daycare in that area anyway, so all worked out well, except that my bike won't be ready until tomorrow night, so R had to come pick me up after work tonight. I even managed to get home and have that shower and breakfast and start work on time, in spite of everything.

By a strange co-incidence, I finished my shift right there at Country Club Mall, and seeing the hand of fate at work, I went in and spent an inordinate amount of money on a pair of black spandex cycling shorts and a fancy-schmantzy hot pink sweat-wicking cycling shirt, which will clash horribly with my red helmet, so no d&^&^(! truck driver can look me squarely in the eye and pretend not to see me so he can justify pulling out in front of me on an uphill grade. Grrrrrrrr. If you can't beat 'em, blind 'em.

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