The beast is broken

A string of events:

After getting home from throwing down with Chris at the Thursday Nighter last night, which, by the way, we completely and utterly destroyed everyone, I saw that my bottom bracket was loose. This had happened a few weeks ago, so I took the bike in this morning to get it re-tightened at the shop. But, like Levi thought the last time this happened, it turned out that the frame is broken. And this time for good, because we couldn’t tighten the bottom bracket any more, and it was still floating around in the frame with my crank arms wobbling side to side like a drunken toddler on a two-wheeled tricycle. I stripped all the components off my frame and sent it in to Kona for a brand spankin new (warranty replaced) Kona Zing Supreme. It should be here in a week, and in the mean time I’ll be using Tony’s bike, which has seen better days.

My living situation is pretty fantastic down here. Dave and his girlfriend Maire have me set up in the computer room in his condo at 13th and Lincoln. We’re up on the fifth floor, and if I wanted to, I could open the windows and jump out into the oak trees blooming alongside the building.
The apartment is choked full of bikes. Fixies, road bikes, time trial bikes, mountain bikes. And pretty much everything we do revolves around these things, working at the bike shop, riding, racing, even writing.
The rent for me and my bikes to live here includes doing the dishes and making huge batches of cookies. The day before yesterday I made over 20, and they were all gone by last night.

The Willamette stage race was canceled due to an over abundance of cat 3’s and 4’s being stupid and lazy and not signing up. So instead, the new Willamette stage race will continue (the Thur. nighter was the first stage) this Saturday and Sunday with the CSC group rides. Come prepared for pain.

Two things that have made me super mad recently. Number one was when I walked into a small country store near Crow the other day asking to use the water faucet. They had remodeled the store since I’d been there last, so I wasn’t sure where the sink was anymore. The women said they didn’t have one. I asked if they had a bathroom and she said no. I was puzzled, and asked her if she was sure they didn’t have a faucet. “No, sorry we don’t,” she said. Right after she said this, I saw it behind the counter. “Uh, so I can’t use THAT faucet right there?” I asked.
“No, sorry.” she said.
“But I’ve used it in the past and no one’s cared.”
“Sorry,” she said, continuing not to look up at me and make eye contact as she pretened to be busy with some papers on the counter.
“Well I was going to buy some stuff here (a lie) but now I’m not!”
“Sorry,” she said lamely.
“No, it’s YOU who should be sorry!” I said loudly as I stormed out the door and then immediately realized that that was what she had just said.
“Whoops, that’s not what I mean,” I said as the door was closing. “Dammit!”

I was super mad and I will never go back there unless it’s to steal something or break a window.

The other thing that’s been making me mad is Safeway’s intolerance for bikes. Every time I go in there with my bike, I always get a “Sir, you can’t have that in here” or “Sir, next time please leave your bike outside.” Well I would leave it outside if Eugene wasn’t the bike theft capital of the US. Or if Safeway didn’t have 30 bums hanging around by the bike locks. Or if my bike wasn’t worth more than I’ve ever made in my life.
Up until Wednesday I’ve just been ignoring the “Sirs” but last time I went in there, one of those stupid cashiers thought that it was worth her time to run me down and tell me to leave.
“Sir you can’t have that in here, you have to take it outside,” she scolded, after literally chasing me a quarter way around the store as pretended not to hear her “Sirs.”
“Ughhhhh.” I rolled my eyes and my entire head up towards the ceiling, pausing for a second there to see if she would just leave. She didn’t.
“Sir there are no bikes allowed in here,” she said very loudly and rudely.
“Because there are no bikes allowed in he–because that’s the rule.”
“Yeah, so. Why?”
“Because it’s a store where you buy things,” she half yelled, obviously growing so pissed off she couldn’t think straight. I said some obscene words to her under my breath as she stormed off. Pretty soon I saw a security guard coming over to usher me out. I walked past him out the door before he could get the satisfaction of telling me to leave.

So if you see the thin woman, who looks like she smokes a lot, that has straight gray hair working at the Safeway on 18th street, feel free to make her job extra hard. Act confused about which way to slide your credit card. Get confused when they ask you if you’d like to make a donation to disabled people, and then say no and ask her why Safeway doesn’t just make their own contribution if they feel so strongly about it. Take your time unloading your cart. Write illegibly on the bulk bin tags. Next time I go in there I’m bringing pockets full of pennies. And a unicycle.

It’s times like those that I wish for the Button. The Button that controls people’s bowls and jowells. I’ve always wanted a button like this to make certain people have terrible diarrhea and vomiting. Uncontrollable. Just push the button and viola, instant diarrhea and vomit. Whenever someone pisses me off enough, I’d just push the button and they’d be shitting a hole through their pants while barfing up their intestines all over the place. It would be a great tool to use in racing too. Just think, you could use the Button to make sure no one attacked hard up a hill when you’re in the red. If you get buzzed by a redneck in a pickup while riding, just push the button and he’ll soon be swerving off the road into a ditch, where he’ll spend the next 20 minutes in the worst pain of his life while ruining the interior of his truck at the same time. The Button is great for all sorts of situations. Use it during a test on your classmates to lower the curve. Use it while watching Fox News to shut those idiots up (it works over TV too. Even pre-recorded stuff). The Button is great for those hard to reach places, and unlike a conventional blanket, the Button doesn’t slip or slide off, making it perfect for reading, watching TV, and even sporting events. Call now and receive a free Chop n’ Scoop. But wait, there’s more!! We’re also throwing in a second Button…for FREE!! That’s two Buttons and a Chop n’ Scoop for three easy payments of $19.95 plus shipping and handling. We’re practically giving them away. But were not done yet. Call in the next 7 minutes and get a free gift–the Ove Glove!! Tired of burning your hands while replacing light-bulbs that are obviously working because they’re on? Well, the Ove Glove is the solution to your ridiculously stupid problem. Order in the next 6 minutes and you get two Buttons/Snuggies, the Chop n’ Scoop, and the Ove Glove for the low low price of just five easy payments of $19.95!! Order now while supplies last!

Good luck. To get good luck, instead of finding lucky pennies on the ground, I’ve been placing my own on the ground for other people to find. My theory is that the luck gods will see this as good karma and reward my unselfish deeds with ten times the good luck of finding lucky pennies. Hahahhahah. I’ve fooled them again!! And it’s worked too. The first time I did it, not 1 minute later I found a full dollar bill sitting right in the middle of the road.

3 thoughts on “The beast is broken

  1. I know I know. Sorry about that. I stayed up too late last night playing Mario Kart and decided to sleep in and ride later. I’ll do my best to be there tomorrow. 8:30 is just so damn early.

  2. Agreed 8:30 is to early, plus its usually cold.

    It was a pretty small group today, I thought more people would show. I kind of think tomorrow’s group will be even smaller, so I might just sleep in myself and go later.

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