What Could Possibly Go Wrong? (Part II)

The glasses got thrown in the trash, and I ventured out without eye protection.  I live on a very steep hill, and the bottom is about 3/4 of mile away from my condo.  As I was racing down Price Hill at about 45 miles an hour, I hear something banging with each wheel revolution.  I have a cyclo-computer mounted on my front fork.  In my haste to get on the road, I must have bumped it right into the turning path of my spokes. Each revolution sounded like a drum corp.  With a little push, I moved it out of the way, and proceeded toward the bowels of Cincinnati.

   Downtown Cincinnati is relatively deserted between 6 and 9, which made the ride through it very nice.  Almost to the workshop, only a couple more streets and I would be there!  Headed toward a large intersection, with traffic crossing both ways, I see my light turn yellow.  I had good speed, so it would be no problem to make it through if I just hammered on the pedals a little more.  I committed toward running the light and headed toward the intersection.  With a couple of might pushes, I had only slightly accelerated when the chain fell off the front sprocket just as I entered the intersection.  Luckily, a lone car traveling at a slow speed was my only obstacle, and I was able to let it go by before my front tire passed his back bumper. 

   My heart was racing as I coasted through, only to find that the other side of the intersection ended at a park. A park where drug deals are made, homeless take refuge, and the nature of the clientele is questionable at best.  My bike is fairly expensive, and looks expensive.  I had to stop, as there was no way I could have coasted four block to the theater, and I certainly was not going to walk.  As I slowed, and prepared myself to come to a complete stop, I could feel eyes all over me.  I am a guy that is clearly on the wrong side of the tracks, and in obvious distress.  I found the most solitude place possible and prepared to repair my chain.  "Nice bike," and "Hey, what did you pay for that bike," were the cattle calls I heard, coming from all directions.   I almost leaped off the bike, and fixed the issue with the speed of a NASCAR pit crew working for Lance Armstrong in the Tour de France.

   No other issues presented themselves for the duration of the day, but hey, there is always tomorrow....

What Could Possibly Go Wrong? (Part I)

I know that when it rains it pours, so I guess I kind of expected things to go bad all at once. I came home from work, and wanted to head to the Know Theater and partake of the improv workshop that Kirk Kiver run. Since I have not gotten too much exercise, outside of the walking in Chicago, I thought it would be a good idea to ride my bike, from the hills of Price Hill, to the far side of downtown. Not a long ride by any means, but enough to get my legs pumping again on my bike.
As I thought of this awesome idea, I was still at work, finishing up some much needed office decor changes. I had brought a sticker to work that looks like a stencil of New York reflecting off of the water. In the move, I had removed this from Shannon's wall, and placed it on one of her pictures, using the glass as a holder for it. On the way to work, my "Low Fuel" light came on, which is did a couple of miles from home the night before. Pressing my luck as I have previously done, I once again took the chance that there is enough gas to get to work, which there was!
After putting up the stencil, and admiring my new office surroundings, I headed to the gas station. It was crowded, and each pump had cars waiting. I saw a young kid emerge from a POS (Piece of Shit). I knew that he would not been long, as I reminisced about my youth and the fact I never had any money to put gas in my car. I pulled in behind him, and my instincts were right. He barely put the nozzle in the tank before he was pulling it out, and hopped back in his car. As I pulled ahead, I see that he only put $3 into his pile of rust.
I went to put my debit car into the pump, when I realized, I forgot my wallet at home. At this point, I was on fumes, and unless I come up with at least a gallon of gas, I am screwed! I dug around in my car, and for some reason, I had $6 in my center console! Just by the grace of God those dollars were there. The line was relatively long for a simple gas station, and the it seemed like everyone wants cigarettes, and/or lottery tickets. What happened to just gas and soda? I got to the counter and said "Six on pump one please." Well, pump one was the pump that is closest to the window, and everyone could see I am driving a Hummer. I heard little snickers behind me, and one person said "really?" I could tell by there reaction that they thought it was a little ridiculous to put only $6 in a gas guzzler.
With gas prices being so high, I put my $6 into the tank in just under a minute. As the car started, the Low Fuel light faded, but the gas gauge barely moved. About 1/4 of mile down the road, the Low Fuel light came on again, only to mock my insignificant purchase. With 1.5 gallons in the tank, I knew that would be enough to get me home.
I was excited to ride my bike to the workshop. It was a hot day, but I needed the exercise. Little did I know that my excitement would quickly turn to frustration. The tires were flat, and needed air. The back tire inflated fine, however, when I went to put air in the front tire, the valve stem broke off inside the pump. Now I have a pump that I cannot use, and a tire that is still flat. The pump had to be disassembled, and the tube had to be replaced. All of which, I didn't really have time to do if I was to get to the workshop on time. Hastily, I fixed them both, and was ready to ride. I grabbed a pair of glasses that have yellow lenses for night riding, and they broke in my hands. Really? How much shit is going to have to go wrong before I can get out of the house?