DAY 14
Wait. Are those band-aids? This just got rough. The streets are forcing a change on our friend. With the chain and the pink, I swear I detect a hint of street punk coming on. Not sure if we really have those around here, but she’s got the gusto to be the first. I’ll tell ya.
DAY 13
I don’t get it. After seeing this lame attempt to cover up the city’s mark, you might conclude she wants to stay there. It’s possible, I suppose, that it has been so long she is afraid to leave. Something similar to battered woman syndrome. Except it’s life that has dealt her the nasty blow, not a drunkard husband.
There is another, equally dubious, possibility. I’m beginning to suspect a dangerous relationship brewing between her and that occasional companion, the blue bike. Look at the way Dr. Creepy is rubbing up on her from behind. Take it easy pal, aren’t you a little old? This is getting weird.
DAY 12
Kickstand engaged, handlebars reversed to accomodate a more stable stance in relation to the fence. Looks uncomfortable doesn’t it?
I was thinking to myself as I passed by this morning. I wondered why the business owner to whom this garbage zone belongs hasn’t cleared his or her area of the unwilling intruder. I suppose they are lacking in the Pride of Ownership department. To test this, I am going to find one of those old Bob’s Big Boy* statues and chain it up right next to the bike. I believe that might offer a fair assesment of just how lazy the person in question may be. I have a funny feeling Bob might just become our lil’ bikes long-term buddy.
*Just Google ‘Bob’s Big Boy statue’ if you don’t know what I’m talking about.
DAY 11
They were going to lunch. She was going nowhere.
DAY 10
Well that really puts it all into perspective doesn’t it? Day after day people walk buy, trash bags come and go and bundled fluorescent lights stop by for a spell. It’s nice to have visitors but if they neither talk nor ride, what good does it do you?
I was lucky to capture this. What timing. The yearning of our purple pedaler is palpable. Look at the guy up ahead, he’s got it all: friendship, mobility… a seat. I can almost hear our little gal futilely crying, “Hey! Hey there! What about me? I’m fun too!”.
DAY 9
Finally, something really worth complaining about on behalf of our lonely, purple comrade. If the thoughtless former-owner could just see her now… I bet they would take back all the times they ran her into a curb without a second thought, or just threw her down in front of the house. They would especially regret the day they chained the lil’ thing up to this fence and left it for dead. They would definitely regret that. I just know it.
DAY 8
If this woman had been equipped with a heart she would have done more than just shoot our hero a dismissive glance. Oh the humanity.
DAY 7
Well I guess I should be happy. The city hasn’t been around to act on the initials (surprise, surprise). Nor have any neighborhood ne’er-do-wells released any pent up aggression on the little purple bike. Unfortunately, and embarrassingly, I find myself a bit disappointed in the lack of action.
I’d be satisfied if our subject would just look a little more downtrodden. Right now I am getting a very complacent vibe, which just isn’t that compelling. I suppose this is a true test of my dedication and determination to the craft. I hope I can persevere through these tough times. Something tells me I’m going to learn a valuable lesson.
