Shortened Saturday Ride
 

The day before yesterday, I went for a bike ride that ended at the
emergency room -- note "at", not "in". When suiting up for pointless
exercise, I noticed a few magazines on the shelf -- we stacked the
garden benches behind the bike to store them for the winter, and
they've been handy -- and decided to drop the magazines off at the
emergency room waiting room; going downtown the long way would ensure
that I didn't get to the comix store or the flea market before they
opened.

But I noticed something odd when going through the intersection of
Harrison and DuBois, pulled off onto the grass, and discovered that my
back wheel was flat. So I walked to the emergency room (taking a
short cut over the helicopter pad, so I guess you could say I've been
to the trauma unit too) and called DH on one of the two phones in the
lobby. I'd thought them pay-phone booths when they registered only
peripherally, but they were dial-9-for-an-outside-line phones instead.
Which makes sense: there wouldn't be enough traffic on the phones to
make it worth the trouble of collecting the money, and people who show
up without their cell phones probably don't have a pocketful of
quarters either.

And I did leave the magazines.

DH asked why I didn't change the tube instead of calling; I
responded "I have done that."

And now I have bike wheel all over the kitchen floor.

--
Joy Beeson
joy beeson at comcast dot net