Behold, Sálome

Last Friday

Ah, a glorious day! The day I get to head to GAG to pick up my pretty shiny new bike. I arrange to meet Bridget and Colleen there, so that they can act as my “muscle”. Well, and so that we can have a Bike-Pickup Festivus. This of course is something that Colleen takes literally, and so as we walk in the door, she starts bellowing “I got a lot of problems with you people!” Luckily, I was able to distract her with a quick “look, a shiny new mountain bike!”, and as her head whipped around in that direction, I set about changing the topic to a more worthy one, i.e. me and my bike.

As one of the GAG guys carefully wheels out my new Baby, under my watchful eyes, I inquire as to whether YCBG Matt was the one who worked on my bike – indeed he was, with a bit of help from his minions. Probably holding the socket wrench for him and things like that, like technicians helping a finely skilled surgeon in the operating room.

I then ask the all-important question: “Will this help me drop Deanna like a bag of rocks?”

You see, much as I love Deanna, after that little Disney escapade where she was crushed under the heel of the elderly Disney worker at the airport (she’s continuing to ask me if I’m still paying him off, but I’m no fool – one lump sum payment, cash, unmarked envelope), she’s now determined that she’s going to leave just a vapor trail on any rides or in any races that I do with her, so that I know what humiliation is like. Ha, little does she know that I’m already quite familiar with the concept.

So Deanna very quickly went from “oh, I don’t need a new bike, my old-new last year’s custom model road bike is fine” to in the blink of an eye having a brand new Cervelo P2C, Zipp race wheels, carbon shoes and pedals, and I think she even hired someone to drive alongside her at all times handing her water bottles and snacks so that she doesn’t have to weigh herself down with such silly things, like the rest of us lowly paeans do. Huh?

I do like Deanna’s explanation as to why she picked the P2C – it’s because it’s a carbon bike that feels like a steel one, which is what her road bike is, which she likes. Thus inspired, I am on the lookout for a really expensive bike that rides like tin. Beryllium perhaps?

Anyway, luckily I don’t hear the answer to my question (I think there was a hushed silence, crickets, perhaps some tuneless whistling as no one wanted to be the one to point out my roly-poly babylunged inadequacy), as I’m distracted by my shiny new bike, much like a crow would be.

Bridget then asks if I’m going to drive home with the bike “inside or outside of the car”, and I am shocked into silence. I look at her and think, “who IS this person? Do I even know you?”

Then, we need to run the gauntlet that is the mean city streets of Chicago, or at least the sidewalks. I send Colleen ahead to clear the way, and Bridget is the detail at my back, making sure no clumsy oafs try to push past me on the sidewalk, thereby jostling Salome. But in spite of our precautions, as I’m crossing the side street to get to my car, disaster almost strikes in the form of a car willy-nilly TURNING onto this street. Quelle horror! I freeze, squealing, like a deer caught in headlights, but Colleen uses that professorial quick thinking and throws herself in front of the interloper while I scurry to my car, heart pounding. I think she got sideswiped a bit, but the important thing is that Bike was fine. Whew, close call!

After a celebratory hot chocolate (and WHEN is Starbucks going to start selling alcohol? Hello?!), I drive home rather gingerly, managing to make it home safely and only having to stop 7 times to check on Bike. I walk in totally exhausted, but at least Salome is safely nestled in her bubblewrap and cashmere throws. Getting to VQ tomorrow will be a chore of nightmarish proportions, to say the least.