DAY 22
Take a gander at that trail of tears. And in case you are wondering, that’s not trash, it’s baggage. Nobody rides for free. So if you want to go somewhere with our girl you better be prepared for the whole package. We’re talking some serious history here, so man-up.
DAY 21
The sun sets but the city never rests. It doesn’t stop either, especially for a little bike without a seat. I bet those two could use a blanket.
DAY 20
After all that Budweiser, our little friend was pretty trashed. I feel helpless being on the sidelines of a downward spiral I can’t coach her out of. Fortunately, the blue bike looks behaved for now. However, it’s tough to say what kind of creepiness he get’s up to when it’s just the two of them.
DAY 19
Strings were pulled, Budweiser was delivered. Better to drown herself in beer than whiskey. Folks tend to live longer that way.
I would suggest keeping an eye on the Michelin Man though. He stopped dead and mumbled “hot damn…” under his breath as the delivery truck came to a stop. He then froze in place, just like you see him here, in a perplexing attempt to hide and plot. Oddly enough it seemed to be working.
DAY 18
There is always someone out there worse off than you.
DAY 17
Well it’s back to the proud posture I was once so accustomed to. Handlebars facing forward and standing on two wheels. Who is the stranger lending a hand to our bike every so often? Maybe it’s the same stranger who has been popping up in promotional posters around the neighborhood. He’s wanted, assault with a deadly weapon, but there is a gleam in his eye which leads me to believe he’s smuggling a heart of gold.
DAY 16
Our friend has been sneaking away nights. The evidence strewn about her curbside residence tells the story. Fed up of just hanging around doing nothing, the pedaler decided what she needed was a night on the town. With little money, there wasn’t a lot she could do in New York. After heading to the liquor store and scoring a cheap bottle of whiskey, it was decided that a movie would be a great distraction.
Disappointed with the new Will Ferrell flick “Semi-Pro”, she stumbled home. Before rechaining herself to the garbage enclosure, bleary-eyed, she surveyed her surroundings with a mix of sadness and disgust. It only took one more bitter sip to finish off the bottle, which she then allowed to slip from her rubbery grip. Shoving her popcorn bag through the bars to await disposal, she slumped back down on the sidewalk with a sigh and fastened the chain.
Sadly, though she is more than able to liberate herself, she must only do so under the cloak of night and must always return before dawn, much like a vampire. She knows that her anthropomorphic nature would be far too much for any human to accept and would thereby disrupt the space-time continuum, destroying the world as we know it. Everyone’s head would explode too.
DAY 15
It’s good to step back, take in the whole picture. I almost ran out of time today and nearly missed this visit with our little street soldier. It‘s possible that my speculation of late regarding her has been all wrong. Maybe there is no budding relationship with the blue bike, nor a proclivity for gutter punk. It may have been a defense mechanism on my part. It’s tough when you care. The truth has always been right there, prone on the sidewalk. Nevertheless, I remain resolute, I will not interfere.
