Terrible tragedy befell my bicycle, forcing me to walk three miles around the seawall on a beautiful sunny evening, as the busted bike, like a wild stallion with a broken leg, could not be ridden any further. Soon, the mourning for the tragedy passed and the horror of my new reality settled in: the bike shop is not open Wednesdays, which is tomorrow, so I will have to take transit to work at least two days, and perhaps even three, and that’s just for this week! I don’t know what is required for the repair, what it will cost, how long it will take. I don’t know if the gears on the flip-side of the broken bits are part of the broken bits, or a piece unto themself, taking them out of the cost factor. I suppose I could look it up online. Bah, that’s like checking out how a magic trick was done, or learning the gender of a baby before it’s born, where’s the fun in that? I can only speculate and await the prognosis two days from now… two very long anxiety-filled days from now. Now, THAT’S entertainment!
