Grayscale

I like a rainy day at the beach. I have no idea who this dude is, but he made me a nice swirly design.

The rest of this post has nothing to do with the picture. Just one of those things.

Saturday, I went out for a little bikey riding. John was out surfing a rockin’ west swell that the stork brought in from the Pacific. I’m pedalling along enjoying the sunshiny day, when I see some guy riding along ahead of me. He’s going kinda slowlike, so soon enough I roll on up and pass him. I said hi and gave him the requisite roady wave, because I didn’t want him to dash home to his computer and get all ranty on some forum or another about how roadies are a bunch of stuck-up assholes who never wave. (True topic, actually seen in forumland.) B’sides, he’s in my ‘hood, and I wouldn’t want to give the wrong impression. The natives are quite friendly here. Really.

So I said hi, and continued on my merry way. Since there’s some flowery things blooming (they’re obviously confused, like, um, newsflash, it’s January), I had some extra snot that needed removing. Duly removed. Oopsy, looks like slow guy sped up and jumped on my wheel. Who knew he was back there? I didn’t. So now, he’s going to go home and tell all his friends virtual or otherwise about how this mean bitch blew snot on him.

He said he was from the East Coast or some sort of cold place like that. And I’m thinking, you spent all this cash to come out here to ride, and you’re going to spend it staring at my ass? Not like you’re going to get fit sucking my wheel all day, you know.

And he wanted to chat. With my ass. If he’d actually wanted to talk to me, maybe, just maybe he’d have moved on up next to me and we could have had a chat. Not that I really wanted to or anything, but really, it’s odd having someone sitting back there babbling on and on about nothing I can really understand since I can only hear about one word out of ten over the wind.

After a while, I decided I really didn’t want to listen to him back there any more. And more importantly, I had some more snot to dispose of. Usually I just head for the hills under such circumstances. Or turn off somewhere completely random. But there weren’t any random spots for turning and I wasn’t near any hills for heading. So I turned the screws until he blew.

I guess I’m a mean bitch after all.

At least I waved.