tuesday night

Last night I met my friend Matt at Village Cycle. He'd purchased a new bike the night before and was picking it up.

Of all of the bike stores in the city, I like that one the least. The employees have a huge chip on their shoulders, yet I understand why: stop in on any Saturday or Sunday afternoon and you'll find hordes of yuppies ordering the staff around like they're "the help" and blindly buying expensive bikes that they won't ride with gold cards.

To work for $10 an hour and see the types of people who wouldn't give you a second glance on the street purchase shit that would take you months to pay off is a big pill to swallow. So, my advice Village Cycle People: drop the attitude and work at a different store, or increase that attitude ten fold and go be a messenger.

After Matt rolled his bike outside, we rode up North Ave. to his apartment. He was fuckin stoked to have a bike again (his got stolen this spring), and said that the ride felt good. I'm fuckin glad to hear that because I'll need a riding pal once Rick takes off.

I stopped by Rapid Transit to pick up some bike lube for my chain. This White Lightening stuff kind of sucks, and the dude at the store told me that he thought it was shit because it apparently flakes off constantly and needs to be re-applied often. Whatever, new lube.

I mentioned that I was looking for a track bike but didn't want to spend something like $1200. He got an interested look on his face and asked if $600 was too much. I said no, and he showed me this wicked yellow 63 cent. track bike. Further, he said that I could put a 25% ($150) layaway deposit down and then pay the shit off when I could. I looked at the bike. I recalled my checking account. I had to get out of there.

It's got me thinking today about it. I could sell the two Pixies tix on e-bay for at least $150 (maybe more) and have the down-payment. Then, I may be able to do some creative budgeting and get the bitch by the first of July. This would fuck up any July vacation to Colorado (but not August)... fuck, these are my problems.

I saw a yellow track bike on the street today. It was fly.

Afterwards my parents called for our weekly 10 minute conversation (8 minutes of mom, and then I get sick of her busy body constant critiques of people I don't know/relatives,.. followed by 2 minutes of dad talking about the dog, the weather, or my job). I got off quick to have a smoke and clean the place.

My place is a mess: empty beer bottles on the tables, ashtray full of white cigarette filters, fucking DIRT(?) on the floor,.. the joint needs a serious cleaning. The joint still needs a serious cleaning, as all I did was spin a record (Beastie Boys Hello Nasty) clean and re-oil the bike chain, and toss the beer bottles in my haze. Then I passed out. Tuesday night.

I still have to officially lose E. I haven't called her, she's probably justifiably pissed. Maybe these few days has given her the time to accept what I haven't brought up yet,.. so she can either be combative or cool about it. I'm not sure which, I'll accept either.