Dirt Bike Annie

Me wearing all blue was a coincidence, not an attempt to match the bike

This is a story about my bike. Though I have always been a fan of alternative modes of transport, more specifically non-emission/self-propelled types, my compulsion and impulsion to buy a bike was based on nothing more than glaring aesthetics and stereotypes. On my frequent trips to my summer share in Bushwick, I would pass the display of gleaming refurbished bikes sold on the street corner from the inside of a trailer. I envisioned myself somewhere between a pretentious banana seat-riding hipster and a low-riding Shygirl hitting the handlebars with my knees while cruising the streets of East LA.

After much capricious contemplation and sampling the 2-person bike and other lesser yet more monetarily sound options, I threw down one weeks worth of rent. The bike peddler kept reminding me that he would be happy to buy the bike back from me at anytime since these frames were hard to find and he detected that hipsterish glint of unknowing nostalgia in my eye.

It is 1 speed, of which is determined by my monstrous flipper of a foot; it has a 24” frame which is similar to biking around in a folding chair; I have yet to master the footbrakes and insist on stopping Fred Flintstone style; and overall I just never learned how to properly ride or control a bike. Despite these minor fallbacks, I see no impracticalities of making this my preferred means of transport. I’m excited to arrive at bars 1 hour late, dripping with sweat with 28 inches of chain padlocked around my waist.

Back in my driving days I always followed my own alleyway shortcuts that I insisted were much faster than the arbitrarily placed highways and lined roads. Of course driving through flowerbeds and frat house lawns was actually a hindrance, yet I preferred this constant forward movement as opposed to having the patience to discover and wait in the line that leads down the direct road. My beautiful new bike will allow me to continue this illusion of progress. Should I wait for the F train or take the initiative to ride my bike to Harlem? As long as my mind is occupied and I am able to carve my own path amongst the pedestrians, buildings and oncoming traffic, it doesn’t matter that an unplanned square route is not simplest way to my destination. But oh, the sense of accomplishment gained that I relied on nothing but myself and my folding chair on wheels to exhaustively reach my goal.

Please stay tuned for my predicted future post “Alexa’s Run in with the Door.” Other potential topics: “Sarah Gets a Summons (aka Kids Aren’t People)”