Bridge With A View

Hello me lovelies. Here are your bridge pictures! I must apologize for their workmanlike quality; I had only the pocketcam in my bike bag, because it's what fits easily and lightly into the bike bag. (I need a bigger bike bag.)

I took the on-the-bridge pics yesterday, and the of-the-bridge-from-far-away pics today. I had this grandiose plan of getting right on the bike in the morning to travel to an appointment I had uptown. I got all dressed and geared up, and had my bike shoes on and everything, and decided to pump that extra 10 lbs. of air into the tires so they'd be all perky and smooth-rolling, and then as I pulled the pump nose off the rear tire valve, shhhhhhwshhhhhhhhhhh!!!! God damn it.

I tried pumping it up again, hoping against hope that I'd somehow unscrewed the presta valve without noticing or something. Nope. Another valve bites the dust.

Which means I have to change the tire before I can leave. Which means I have to take the goddamned subway. Again. Which I have (mostly) sworn off. And increasingly hate doing. The more time I spend getting myself from place to place under my own steam (and that of my beloved, wonderful bicycle), the lower my tolerance for the cramped, claustrophobic, smelly indignity of mass transit. Not that I'm not grateful to have that to fall back on, but really, there are far better ways to spend my $4.

Lately I am spending it all on tubes, of course.

And coffees for the adorable, simply adorable bike mechanics. I'd much rather buy them coffee, and me Clif Bars and hummus and other assorted fuels than support the MTA, and if that makes me a bad New Yorker, well, so be it. Y'all can suck my you-know-what.

Okay, wait a minute, I'm getting rude, and it's really just an avoidance tactic because I don't want to have to tell you that that boy I liked, you know, the one I really liked? Has disappeared. Ceased communication. No phone, no email, no text, nada. No explanation, no polite, "hey, you're a nice person and all but I'm kinda not interested anymore." Nothing. No manners, apparently.

So there's that. All I can say is I have been feeling thankful for the following:

a) friends
b) bowling
c) brunch
d) bike boys (the better to flirt with and talk bike parts, which always sounds like one is talking about sex. mmmmmm, bottom brackets.....)

And most of all, I am thankful for my bicycle himself, without which I would not be here today spilling beans and posting photos and all that jazz.

Really, he's sanity on two skinny tires, and I love him more than I can adequately express. We went and hung out at the waterfront together tonight just before sundown, the two of us lying on the grass, my head on his saddle, his cranks sprawled on the ground.

I looked up at the sky and out at the skyline and over at that little girl's giraffe hat, and thought luscious thoughts about what it might be like to have two beautiful young boys in my arms at once, and sighed a sad little sigh and thought how stupid that one boy must be, and then thought some more about redheads. It was nice.

PS. The bridge in question is the Willie B (aka. Williamsburg Bridge), which connects the hipsters of the LES with their even-hipper cousins in Williamsburg. Despite that, it is a swell bridge for cycling, with a nice two-lane bike path and a great view.