Sunday, August 23, 2009

Oh.

And yesterday, I got to ride one of these things.


Thursday, August 13, 2009

Anniversaries

As my sister pointed out, both I and the Sony Walkman are turning 30 this summer. She commemorated this milestone by sending me an updated version of the Walkman, which was terribly sweet and made me cry a little.* Today is my actual birthday and among other gifts the staff meeting at work was canceled, although I and a few others didn't know that until we showed up for it.





*I'm getting sappy in my old age.

Tuesday, August 04, 2009

Hobbies, Everyone Needs One

Bikes used to be my hobby, but now I work in a bike shop and they've become serious business. And because this serious business is the nicest bike shop in town I've gotten to meet some of the local town characters. There's two quirky regulars that usually happen to stop by the shop on the same day, but never at the same time. That is until yesterday when worlds collided while we watched David and Downtown Debbie interact.

I met David on my second or third day working, he was looking for a tire pump that he could pump his air horn up with. He had recently had cataract surgery and was wearing dark glasses; he mentioned this several times. The air horn is on his tandem bicycle, which is his and his wife's primary source of transportation. On the back it has an orange flag and an American flag on a tall stick. When David talks it sounds like me might be deaf, although he can hear us. He works at Staples and yesterday came to the shop on his lunch break to see if we could fix the bottom bracket on his tandem. David likes to talk but does so with long awkward pauses in the flow of his stories.

I met Rick* on my second or third day on the job too. He was wearing brown polyester pants and a short sleeved dress shirt with a brown tie that was too short. He's a lumpy, middle-aged man with a lazy eye lid. Our introduction was when I rounded the corner to hear him yelling into his cell phone. It seems that his mother wasn't answering her phone and he needed some money to get a flat fixed on his bicycle.** He was actually screaming, "Son of a bitch." completely without irony. We had a conversation about racing bicycles and how fast he was going to go when he saved up enough money to buy himself a racing bicycle. His current bicycle is held together with duct tape, it doesn't appear to have brakes and the seat gets knocked to the side with the slightest touch.

The second time Rick came into the shop he needed to have the crank arm put back on his bicycle. He had gone out for his bicycle ride at 5:30 Saturday morning when the crank had fallen off near the Kraft plant. Apparently he had waited anxiously for the next five hours until we opened to get it fixed. He was still in his workout clothes, a pair of sweat pants held up by a leather belt, a hip pack, and a tucked in orange t shirt. He was still sweaty.

Yesterday Rick came into the shop because the derailleur had fallen off. I'd been waiting for this visit, not that I knew his bike would fall apart, but because he's also the local cross dresser and frequently comes into the shop as Debbie. I was standing at the counter when Rick, now Debbie, came into the shop. His first question was "Do you recognize me?" in answer I said, "Looks like the chain came off your bike." His likeness of a woman is frightening at best, but complete with wig, make-up, hose, dress, purse, and what can kind of pass as a lumpy bosom. The shop employees play along and refer to him as Debbie and since business was slow most of us were watching as one of the mechanics inspected his bike. I was standing by her and after she asked a bevy of questions about the bike stand he turned to me and said in his slightly slurry language, "This is my hobby, everyone has hobbies, this is mine."*** I knew we weren't talking about racing bicycles anymore and because I'm not great in awkward situations, agreed that everyone did need a hobby.



*There are many Rick/Debbie stories, this is just my introduction to him.
**He always refers to them as bicycles, not bikes.
***Apparently he would always come into the shop as Debbie until one day he came dressed as a guy. Again there was an off-handed comment of explanation of his now semi-normal wardrobe, "My parents are in town."