1. There was a matt black Yamaha R1 parked outside the back of our office today. It was beautiful. I admired it. I wanted it. So I took out one of my business cards on the way past at lunchtime, wrote ‘Nice bike. Give me a ride?’ and stuck it in the faring. Much to the apparent horror of my friends, I might add.
I didn’t really expect a response but I got one. The chap called to say he’d seen me looking at his bike and would be happy to give me a ride. So, Sunday afternoon I get to put the leathers, boots and helmet that recently arrived in the shipment of my belongings from the UK to good use once again.
And yes, I know motorbikes are dangerous. That’s part of their appeal. But I’m not responsible for anyone else – I don’t have kids or aged parents relying on me – so I can afford to be selfish and irresponsible. I’ll do what I like.
2. As I walk to work I pass underneath Harbour Bridge. Lots of people commute by bike over the bridge every day; scores of them ride past me at the junction with Lavender Street. Today I shouted “Race! Race! Race!” at a group of about eight guys as they neared me. Three of them grinned and stood up out of their seats, pedalling harder and faster to put on a burst of speed and beat the others round the bend.
I am now considering getting up earlier to do that every day. Maybe I could get my participation rate up above 3:8.
I wonder how long before the novelty wears off – both for me and for the hyper-competitive cyclists?
3. I was going to wear a nice blouse with tiny flowers on it to work today. Instead, I opted for my new zombie attack tshirt. I felt like a survivor all day.