Setbacks

Saturday night Edith and I went out bar hopping, starting at Joe Squared and finishing in the apartment of some arrogant climbing people. I'll start at the beginning.

We parked on Howard and approached Joe's, and lo and behold six fixies were locked up to the parking meters nearby. We quickly spotted the group inside but they were clearly keeping to themselves, so instead of talking to them we played Photohunt and secured the high score with the help of a nice guy named Ramadan. Moving on to Brewer's Art (the downstairs) we spotted a guy who'd been at Joe's and cast our eyes about for boys to talk to. Sure enough not ten minutes in some girl comes up to us and says "You really need to join this conversation over here," and drags us five steps to two dudes. One announces he makes climbing holds at Earthtreks and the other starts crowing about climbing competitions, but neither of them are very interesting. Climbing competition just seems oxymoronic to me. What I like about it is you're pitting yourself against yourself, in the company of others. Not trouncing people.

Despite their arrogance we agree to join their gang of Earthtrekkies back at Dude 2's place after Brewer's closes, just you know, to have a story. Dude 1 climbs out the 6th story window into his apartment in the next building to bring back beer, but I didn't see it. We chat with the various people but poor Dude 2 gets nowhere with Edith, and we take off.

The last time we went to Joe's looking for boys to talk to we ended up finding climbers too. Either it's a series of unlikely coincidences, or there are way more people climbing than I realize.

Sunday we go to the Farmer's Market and I am still on the lookout for fixies. Edith is getting rather interested too as the boys who ride them tend to be attractive. Sure enough, a beautiful dude wheels his blue Peugeot by us as we're eating our breakfast crepes and we stalk him through the market as I explain to Edith what makes a fixie recognizable. As we walk back to the car I see two bikers coming down Guilford and know immediately they're fixed; Edith asks how I know and I make up some stuff about how they just look different. You know it when you see it. It's probably a combination of realizing they're not coasting, plus their clothing/hair/style, all adding up in my head.

Monday I go to the JHMI recycling meeting, which is awesome because a) they're super energetic and b) I have all this useful knowledge to offer them. Tuesday we climb and go to Dizzy's and Dave and Camillia announce they're getting married (hooray!). I'm at my limit and Sean and I leave to bike home, but on our way out we're stopped by a retired guy in a suit who says "Hey! You guys look like bike people, lemme buy you a drink!" Of course I say yes and we end up talking to him for a lot longer than necessary and have two drinks. Oops. The guy has 13 bikes at home, including two Colnagos (one a track bike, which he promises he'll let me ride). Eventually we escape but as I'm unlocking my bike the key gets stuck. Then snaps off in the lock.

After much swearing and an attempt at removing the bus sign on the top of the pole, I give up and take the wheels and seat off. Dave and Camilla walk me home. The next morning, feeling like crap, I go back to the bike, ask campus security to unlock it (no, because it's not on campus) and also the Police Escape and Apprehension Unit. All they have are boltcutters, but are unwilling to help. They do point me toward the Auto Repair joint across the street. A voluble guy is sent to help me out but his boltcutters are useless against the Kryptonite, and we can't get the key out. Another guy comes up and takes over, and cuts off the sign's bolts with a saw. By this point we're getting lots of weird looks but whatever, I look respectable in a skirt and it's my bike and we're putting the sign back together so I'm not worried.

Ray is bolting the sign back on after we've lifted the bike over the pole, and only then do the four cop cars show up. "Do you know people have been calling in about you?" "Well, no." "What's goin' on?" "I broke my key off in the lock and we're lifting the bike over the pole and putting the sign back on." "Oh, well ok." My reply gets relayed back as the cops approach. Elaine from Dizzy's gives me a wink and explains that a lot of parking signs have been cut down in the neighborhood lately, because they feel it's too restrictive. I guess it's good that people are watching out for the 'hood and it's nice to know that cops can be laid-back.

So now I have the lock still on my bike, which is another hassle. Kryptonite says they'll reimburse for a locksmith but I think they're lying. Only one way to find out.