biked

Chester Copperpot is a sure-footed young man that never seems to move slowly.  He doesn’t seem rushed, just too interested in things to dawdle.  You might spend two hours with him talking over a cup of coffee until he suddenly says: “I’ve got to go.  This was great, until next time, sir.” And he shakes your hand and scampers off. It is as if suddenly he remembers there is so much he planned to do, so many people he planned to see —so many things he wanted to experience, and he’d already spent too much time in one place.  

He got a bike because subway stations “are a waste of time, why would you spend your time down there when you could be spending it outside —on a bicycle—movin’ and goin’ places?” 

Posted May 7, 2011 at 11:24 am 1 notes

#NYC#bike#biked#copper pot#chrome#mystic#life

Krystal’s watches The Electric Horseman every Thursday night.  She thinks Robert Redford is dreamy.  She and a girlfriend smoked a joint and watched it.  When her friend turned to her and said “we should put lights on your bicycle…” Krystal was out of her seat and looking for lights in the garage before the words left her mouth.  

Krystal’s watches The Electric Horseman every Thursday night.  She thinks Robert Redford is dreamy.  She and a girlfriend smoked a joint and watched it.  When her friend turned to her and said “we should put lights on your bicycle…” Krystal was out of her seat and looking for lights in the garage before the words left her mouth.  

Posted April 12, 2011 at 9:12 am 2 notes

#The Electric Horseman#Robert Redford#Bike#Biked#suburbia

When Daniel finds his bicycle with someone else’s trash in the basket I cannot do anything other than fly into an extreme rage.  If he is taking his bike, he hastily jumps on it so that he can begin to pedal, pedal, pedal as hard and as fast as he can, just to burn out the anger.  He will turn up at his office sweaty and red in the face and his assistant will say “someone leave trash in your basket again?” If for some reason he cannot take his bicycle, the poor barista, waitress, or tourist that gets  in his way is the recipient of undue scorn.  They don’t deserve it, but neither did Daniel, not as he sees it.  Them’s the brakes.  

When Daniel finds his bicycle with someone else’s trash in the basket I cannot do anything other than fly into an extreme rage.  If he is taking his bike, he hastily jumps on it so that he can begin to pedal, pedal, pedal as hard and as fast as he can, just to burn out the anger.  He will turn up at his office sweaty and red in the face and his assistant will say “someone leave trash in your basket again?”

If for some reason he cannot take his bicycle, the poor barista, waitress, or tourist that gets  in his way is the recipient of undue scorn.  They don’t deserve it, but neither did Daniel, not as he sees it.  Them’s the brakes.  

Posted April 4, 2011 at 1:33 pm 1 notes

#etiquette,#NYC#bike#biked#garbage#litter#pet peeve#rage

Never once in his entire life did Doug Hmelovsky want the good guy to win.  He always liked the bad guy.  He thought they had cooler places, sexier women, and more loyal friends staff.  He sort of wanted to be a villain.  He wanted to creep people out, to make them feel uneasy with his imposing demeanor and piercing glare.  When he was a boy he asked his parents for a fluffy cat so he could be like Dr. Claw from Inspector Gadget.   As a grown manchild, Doug still roots for the bad guy.  He still wants to be the bad guy. He chose his apartment not for size, location, or cost, but for the building.  It has a black granite lobby with dim lighting.  There is a long, thin fireplace at eye level in the wall.  The fire just comes up from stones.  It can’t be much different than the waiting room to Lucifer’s office.   When he saw this custom built gold-plated bicycle in the auction preview booklet he had to have it.  It reminded him of his favorite Bond villain, Goldfinger.  He joking said to his buddy “This is gonna get me Pussy Galore” and named it Odd Job. Somewhat predictably, it hasn’t even gotten him a hand job. 

Never once in his entire life did Doug Hmelovsky want the good guy to win.  He always liked the bad guy.  He thought they had cooler places, sexier women, and more loyal friends staff.  He sort of wanted to be a villain.  He wanted to creep people out, to make them feel uneasy with his imposing demeanor and piercing glare.  When he was a boy he asked his parents for a fluffy cat so he could be like Dr. Claw from Inspector Gadget.  

As a grown manchild, Doug still roots for the bad guy.  He still wants to be the bad guy. He chose his apartment not for size, location, or cost, but for the building.  It has a black granite lobby with dim lighting.  There is a long, thin fireplace at eye level in the wall.  The fire just comes up from stones.  It can’t be much different than the waiting room to Lucifer’s office.  

When he saw this custom built gold-plated bicycle in the auction preview booklet he had to have it.  It reminded him of his favorite Bond villain, Goldfinger.  He joking said to his buddy “This is gonna get me Pussy Galore” and named it Odd Job. Somewhat predictably, it hasn’t even gotten him a hand job. 

Posted March 23, 2011 at 1:33 am 7 notes

#NYC#Bike#Biked#bicycle#villian#douche#goldfinger#bond#james bond#007

Loretta Osgood has lived in the same apartment for 40 years.  She has had the same bicycle for 37.  She doesn’t own one pair of jeans and has a designated pair of “cycling shoes.”  More often than not, she is seen wearing a large, colorful church hat.  She pedals around leaning back in the seat with her arms casually stretched to the handle bars, moving the gearstick like she’s driving a car.  Laying her hand out flat and cutting slowly through the air she says  “It’s my Cadillac.  I just sit back crrruuisssee.”

Posted March 8, 2011 at 8:00 pm 4 notes

#NYC#bike#bicycle#Cadillac

Chad agreed to let his friend set him up on a blind date.  When he arrived to Petal Rosenbaum’s apartment building he smelled Nag Champa on the first floor, the scent of which only got stronger as he approached her door where he hit a wall of it.  The interior of her apartment was similar to that of a gypsy caravan.  He tried not to judge her and kept hopes of having a good day riding their bikes up the West Side. And besides, she was pretty and greeted him with a big smile and a hug.   “Let me just throw on some patchouli and grab my bicycle.  I’ll meet you outside” She said with whimsicial cadence in her voice.   She appeared at the top of the steps carrying what looked like a modified high wheel bicycle.  Categorically stunned, he blurted out “cool bike” and began to think how stupid it was.   “Isn’t it great?  I love the little wheels and it’s really nice because I can wear all my long skirts and they don’t get caught up in anything.” When she went back in to grab her Klean Kanteen Chad immediately pulled out his phone to text his friend ‘dude you are the worst’

Chad agreed to let his friend set him up on a blind date.  When he arrived to Petal Rosenbaum’s apartment building he smelled Nag Champa on the first floor, the scent of which only got stronger as he approached her door where he hit a wall of it.  The interior of her apartment was similar to that of a gypsy caravan.  He tried not to judge her and kept hopes of having a good day riding their bikes up the West Side. And besides, she was pretty and greeted him with a big smile and a hug.  

“Let me just throw on some patchouli and grab my bicycle.  I’ll meet you outside” She said with whimsicial cadence in her voice.  

She appeared at the top of the steps carrying what looked like a modified high wheel bicycle.  Categorically stunned, he blurted out “cool bike” and began to think how stupid it was.  

“Isn’t it great?  I love the little wheels and it’s really nice because I can wear all my long skirts and they don’t get caught up in anything.”

When she went back in to grab her Klean Kanteen Chad immediately pulled out his phone to text his friend ‘dude you are the worst’

Posted March 7, 2011 at 9:14 pm 4 notes

#blind date#awkward#bike#biked#bicycle#Manhattan#NYC

Clive does a lot of things just to make other people think certain things about him —like that he’s clever, or witty, or not named something as boring as John, so he introduces himself by his last name.  For no apparent reason he began to collect and always wear bowlers hats and vests.  

More recently he started to augment his “bicycle persona.”  He nicked the price tag off a lamp at a garage sale and carried in his pocket back into the city.  He was possessed to attach it his bicycle seat, he thought it was charming.  Or that people would think it’s charming that he found an old Schwinn for $5 in the country  When he put the car fresheners on his handlebars his girlfriend said “you’re such a fucking tool” and walked away.  She hasn’t answered his phone calls since. 

Posted March 7, 2011 at 6:54 pm

#NYC#hipster#lame#herb#poser#breakup#air freshener

Dennis developed frotteurism shortly after moving to New York.  His very first morning working in Manhattan he was crammed into a downtown 4 train which became more crowded with each stop.  Finally he found himself pressed up against a woman.  He didn’t even see her face but as soon as his crotch touched the back of her jacket, he became aroused.  He found himself getting as close as possible to strange women on the train, even if it was just for a second.  A second was enough.  He acknowledged he had a problem when he saw an attractive woman in a bar and instantly began to strategize how he could discretely rub his balls against her.   

Suddenly the MTA began to play service announcements in the subway: “In appropriate touching is crime, even on a crowded subway.  If you feel you have been inappropriately touched tell a police officer immediately.”  The first time he heard it, his heart slammed against his chest.  He was disgusted with himself already and now he felt like a criminal. It started to drive him mad.  They were his tell-tale heart beating under the floorboards. 

Dennis decided to rehabilitate himself and bought a bike and started taking it to work.  He hasn’t rode a rush hour train in 437 days.  

Posted March 6, 2011 at 10:26 pm 6 notes

#MTA#subway#NYC#4 train#frotteurism#paraphilia#recovery#bike#biked#bicycle

Ryan and Sarah met in drama school.  They were in a few productions at community theaters and with an improv group, but nothing major ever came through.  After working cubicle jobs for 3 years they realized they were miserable and “desperately missed performing.”  When Ryan saw a post on Craigslist with the headline “Performance Artists Needed —FULL TIME” his heart leapt.  He clicked on the link and was immediately disheartened by the image of a child’s birthday party.   “Outgoing, energetic performers needed to play the role of clowns, princesses, and SpongeBob Squarepants. Will train to make ballon animals, paint faces, and simple magic tricks. We are booked solid for the next 6 months.” Despite his circumspection he emailed the anonymized address asking about rate of pay and hours of shifts.  He was surprised to receive a quick response, he was even more surprised when Sarah said she’d do it with him.   Two years later and they are still flipping a coin for who has to put on the giant, smelly, square Spongebob costume.  While they must grit and bear the capricious, sugared up, imps at work, they delight in horrifying clourophobics while riding their bicycles together to and from job sites.  

Ryan and Sarah met in drama school.  They were in a few productions at community theaters and with an improv group, but nothing major ever came through.  After working cubicle jobs for 3 years they realized they were miserable and “desperately missed performing.”  When Ryan saw a post on Craigslist with the headline “Performance Artists Needed —FULL TIME” his heart leapt.  He clicked on the link and was immediately disheartened by the image of a child’s birthday party.  

“Outgoing, energetic performers needed to play the role of clowns, princesses, and SpongeBob Squarepants. Will train to make ballon animals, paint faces, and simple magic tricks. We are booked solid for the next 6 months.”

Despite his circumspection he emailed the anonymized address asking about rate of pay and hours of shifts.  He was surprised to receive a quick response, he was even more surprised when Sarah said she’d do it with him.  

Two years later and they are still flipping a coin for who has to put on the giant, smelly, square Spongebob costume.  While they must grit and bear the capricious, sugared up, imps at work, they delight in horrifying clourophobics while riding their bicycles together to and from job sites.  


Posted February 27, 2011 at 8:26 am

#NYC#bike#bicycle#spongebob#clowns#birthday party#kids#shitty job#drama#drama school

When Kate was laid off she knew she would need something to occupy her time other than her job search.  Her other unemployed friend suggested they take a knitting class together.  Kate took to it like an 18th century widow. Actually, she began to look like an 18th century widow.  Sitting at home in front the computer, looking for jobs, eating, knitting compulsively.  She stopped riding her bike and would say things like “it’s colder than the dickens out there!”  Those close to her got concerned when she betrayed her sartorial sensibilities and began to wear only homemade knit sweater dresses.   Pray she doesn’t get a cat.  

When Kate was laid off she knew she would need something to occupy her time other than her job search.  Her other unemployed friend suggested they take a knitting class together.  Kate took to it like an 18th century widow.

Actually, she began to look like an 18th century widow.  Sitting at home in front the computer, looking for jobs, eating, knitting compulsively.  She stopped riding her bike and would say things like “it’s colder than the dickens out there!”  Those close to her got concerned when she betrayed her sartorial sensibilities and began to wear only homemade knit sweater dresses.  

Pray she doesn’t get a cat.  

Posted February 22, 2011 at 4:05 am 2 notes

#NYC#bike#bicycle#knitting#knit#craft#crazy#unemployed#cat lady#sweater dresses#knit bicycle