As mentioned previously, I bike quite a bit… My bike likes to misbehave, and at inopportune moments. By that I mean, it misbehaves when I’m in front of other humans so I can make a mockery of myself and have witnesses to prove it.
Yesterday I took my bike into a bike shop (the same from this post) to get the brake cables replaced. I had been biking down a slight downhill road on my way to brunch when I realized that my brakes weren’t working. Like, at all. I immediately entered panic, but survived like a champ (brunch is always my priority). I dropped off the bike and bike-man told me that he’d text me when it was finished and to arrive before 6 p.m. sharp.
Of course he didn’t text me, so I called and ran over to the bike shop. It’s a 15-minute walk, but me being me and leaving at the last minute, I had to run about five blocks and endure the usual macho Salvadorian gazes and whistles. I arrived at the shop, winded and sweating profusely. I managed to pay and was enthusiastically wheeling my bike out of the shop when cute cashier-boy says “Um… actually the exit is this way. The front door is locked.” Bumbling and clumsy, I swung my bike around, smashing into his foot.
“Oops! Sorry!” I felt my face get red. The older cashier-man propped the back door open for me as I crashed into a pile of racing bikes in an attempt to get out quickly. “Sorry! Sorry!” I peeped and walked out, face raging hot. So I guess grace is not one of my strengths.