Rider cusses up a storm  − 11 May, 2008

This story is dedicated to Intreppid Eddie.  Thanks Eddie, for your inspriing words! 

“Yay, Road Bike!  You’re all fixed!” crowed Mountain Bike.  He, Road Bike, and Hybrid Bike were now snuggled cozily against the wall of the garage.  Road Bike sighed, and replied, “Mountain Bike, I’m afraid it’s not that simple.  When Rider finished with me, she gave me a kind of jaded look and said, “I pronounce you conditionally ready.’  I wondered what she meant, but she was quick to explain: ‘Conditional on a test ride and a wheel true-ing.’  So, I’m not really done yet”.  

Mountain Bike’s spirits fell.  He’d been rooting for Road Bike.  “Say, Road Bike”, chimed in Hybrid Bike, also liking the feeling of being nestled together with her friends, “why’d it take Rider so bloody long to get your front tire on today?”  

Road Bike felt the heat of deep embarrassment.  He replied, “Well, there were several mishaps this afternoon.  Actually, there had already been a mishap Rider didn’t know about.  The tube she put in my back tire had the tiniest pinhole in it.  So when she pulled me out of the back room today, my back tire was flat.  She did not look happy.”

“Oops”, said Mountain Bike.  “Do you think it already had a hole, or that she put it there?”  Road Bike answered without hesitation, “I think it was already there.  Last week when she got that tire on, she didn’t use a tire lever.  So she didn’t pinch the tube.  Maybe it came from the factory that way, or maybe it sat out here in the garage over the winter.”

“Bummer”, said Mountain Bike.  “Ok, so then she had to do both of your tires instead of just the front tire.”

“Yep”, answered Road Bike.  

“So, why’d it take so long”, repeated Hybrid Bike. 

“Well, Rider was trying really hard not to use the tire lever, since she now knows that it can destroy tubes.  But she just didn’t seem to have the strength to get the tire on without the lever.”

Mountain Bike sounded puzzled when she said, “But she got my tire on must fine without the lever.”

Road Bike just shrugged.  “I don’t know, Hybrid Bike.  Maybe your tires are different.  So she tried and tried to get my brand new front tire on, but finally resorted to the lever.  Within seconds, she had busted the tube.”  

“Say, Road Bike, I heard Rider cussing mightily today.  Was that when she started cussing?” Mountain Bike asked.

“No, Mountain Bike.  That came later.  She showed extraordinary restraint.  At least, restraint compared to what she’s shown in the past!  I’ve heard her cuss over much less.  No, she got the front tire on.  She had the revelation to use gloves.  Right after she put the gloves on, my front tire popped into the rim.  She and I were extremely relieved. Unfortunately, when she put my front wheel on, it wobbled a lot, so she had a lot of trouble getting it tightened down so that it wouldn’t rub against the brakes.”

“Ugh,” commiserated Hybrid Bike.   “It sounds like you might need to go into the shop.”

“Yeah,” sighed Road Bike.  “I probably do.  So anyhow, I expected that the back tire would go just as smoothly now that Rider had learned to use gloves.  But no.”

“So, Road Bike, what was different?” asked Hybrid Bike.  

“Well, it’s hard to say”, replied Road Bike.  “She used the gloves, and she tried very, very hard.  But she was making only the slowest of progress.  I just couldn’t understand.  In all our years together I have never seen her have such difficulty putting on a tire.  On the other hand, she’s always used the lever.  It’s hard to say why she used to be able to use the lever without busting the tube, but maybe she just got lucky.”

“Yeah, maybe”, said Mountain Bike.  “But when did all that cussing begin?” Mountain Bike wanted to know.

“Oh, man.  She’d been trying at the back tire for a long time with the gloves. She was getting nowhere.  She pulled them off, and picked up the tire lever.  She didn’t use it the way you use a tire lever, but she tried to jam it against the edge of the tire to shove it into the wheel.  The lever slipped, and she scraped up her knuckle.  That was probably the fourth or fifth time she’d done it.  At that point, she let loose with a string of cusswords, just one after another.  I think there were only three actual cusswords, but they were each pretty long.”

“Well,” said Mountain Bike eagerly, “so what were they?”

Road Bike blushed.  “Oh, it’s so degrading.  I shouldn’t repeat it.”

“Aw come on.   We’ve heard cussing. You can tell us”, Hybrid Bike egged Road Bike on.

“OK, guys, are you sure?”  

Both bikes nodded.

“OK, she said “You god-damned mother fucking son a of a bitch.””

“Wow.  That’s pretty good,” said Hybrid Bike.  She’d only been a little offended.

“Oh, you pussies, that’s nothing!” bragged Mountain Bike.  “I’ve heard much worse.  I got to hang out near the mechanic’s station when I lived at the store!”

Comments:

intrepideddie (May 12, 2008. 02:53am)

I was outside planting a tree earlier when I felt a strange, unearthly disturbance. Some ill wind blowing through the astral ether... Now, after reading this, I know what it was. I should probably be ashamed that I inspired you to cussing -- but I'm not. ;) That last line was hilarious, by the way!

peahayes (May 12, 2008. 03:01am)

Cool! Glad you liked your story. Unfortunately, I just got some feedback from my dad on my first bike story that the ending was disappointing. I'm going to try to find out why he didn't like it. I personally have been enjoying my bike stories. They are my own private way of laughing at myself, and trying to "gimmick" myself into taking better care of my bikes.

intrepideddie (May 13, 2008. 05:47am)

The bikes we used to have would have some stories.... mountain bikes (mine was a reeeaaallllyyy nice Specialized) bought in Colorado Springs, rode around locally, took them with us to the outback of Australia for 2 years, and then on to northern England. In England we parted ways -- sold them to a friend. We didn't ride them at all there and the frequent rains were slowly killing them.