Spring in the air, trannies and pineapples

Spring is in the air and the fat is around the belly. What a start to the primavera of ’04. A glutton for punishment, I keep pounding and pushing myself to keep the wheel of a fit Martin Van der Veen. So far I have toasted one wheel and wrenched another. There goes two hours of my wheel building life. The phone ringing at 5am as a call to weep in the morning hours as my muscles come alive with pain is something, I could not imagine as being fun. No Sprint, no descent seems to makes matters any better. I plug away on the poor pedals of my ferrous steed, hoping, just hoping it won’t buckle. At least I am riding.

Just a quick note as to some people and sights I have recently scene while riding to work:

Pimp gran-daddy galore: This older black guy with a Mr. Clean do, scooting along on a pristine Giant bike, with a gold shimmering shirt, high water pants and the whitest shoes around. Like a true pimp in-style going down 5th street with a group of admirers.

Land locked whale: A very, very large woman, 400-500lbs of flesh motoring down 6th street on a wheelchair/slab on wheels. Nearly took me out, coming around a corner. The pneumatic tires were HUGE and still bulging. God knows what would happen if she tipped over?

Emmett Smith’s Sister: A tranny dressed in a short, short skirt and halter-top, asked me for directions. I almost fell over in my track stand. She/he had bigger guns on her arms than me, a more pronounced Adam’s apple and probably a bigger package. She was on the corner of 6th and grand. I felt very queasy after that one and only encounter and I am known for my gastrological fortitude.

Miss. Bicycle Messenger: A short-cropped Ska looking chick on a Cannondale, I see all over downtown. Usually going the other way and with strategically placed tats. Probably thinks of me as just one of those eco freaks that rides to work.

Mz. Bicycle Messenger: Similar as above but thicker. Sporting a chained wallet and rolled up jeans. Looks like she could make me her bitch. Some might say who can’t.

Downhill guy: A messenger sportin’ knicker pants, triple-double crown eight-inch fork and huge 2.5 tires. A little bit of an over kill for downtown. Must be compensating for a lack of (fill in the blank).

Pineapple Bob: Skinny Fuso w/mustache bars riding Asian guy who reminds me of the guy in the old Bridgestone bicycles ads. Yes, I am old. This guy always is going the opposite direction, and always looks so neat and proper.