Tight Spandex

Last night, as I got out of work early, I had my head set on going for as long of a bike ride as possible. I was rushing around cause it gets dark pretty early this time of year and riding around Boston at dusk has brought granted me a couple near death experiences. As such, this is now avoided as much as possible. In my haste, I went through my pre-ride routine (filling water bottle, bring bike downstairs, bring shoes downstairs, check tire pressure, etc.) a little out of order. This apparently threw me off completely because I ended up forgetting I hadn't brought the bike downstairs.

Having come to this realization as I looked down at my cycling shoes, I shuddered to the sound of the door slamming shut behind me. My cell phone and apartment keys were in a pouch on the bike on the other side of the door.

Immediately I started freaking out. In one fell swoop the bike ride was no longer on my mind. With no phone I couldn't call Mussolini, or anyone else for that matter. So, in my cycling spandex, I put on my Timberland work boots, the only shoes in the hallway without carbon soles, and walked down to a friend's apartment to see if anyone was available to let me use their phone or just for a little QT. No dice. I'm sure I was a spectacle for all passersby. I looked like a huge asshole.

Furious, I walked back to my apartment and sat on the stairs for approximately 45 minutes, twiddling thumbs and brainstorming for ways to break into a second floor apartment. I noticed a ladder at a neighbors place but thought better of it. If a neighbor called the police, thinking I was a burglar, and the police actually came, I may have created bigger problems for myself, given the fish whistle left out on the table in the living room.

After trying to pick the lock with a clothes hanger, I gave up. I'd also taken note of the paradoxical panic and resignation reigning over me. Completely pissed off and frustrated beyond belief, I moved not an inch. I just sat there. Approximately 45 minutes after that, I noticed a black Ford Explorer parallel parking behind me. Recognizing the car for the same make as my landlord's I remember thinking how I never catch breaks. Only this time I actually did. She was in the neighborhood to sign a lease.

"Kerri!" I called out as I walked toward her.

"Seamus!?"

"How are yah?" I asked with a forced smile.

"I'm good, you?"

"I've been better," I said while motioning toward the sartorial curiosity that was me. "I locked myself out. I was about to go for a bike ride...."

Her uncontrollable laughter cut me off. As I don't know her very well, her reaction made me uncomfortable. Instinctively, I covered my groin with my hands while awkwardly shifting my weight from side to side, scrambling to come up with something clever to say. Eventually, as I crept ever so close to a nervous breakdown, she agreed to let me in.