bicycle drama

i haven't heard of it, either, but it's the best way to describe my bike story...

one saturday, matias sat me down to talk about something VERY important... what time i return home from tennis. tennis class starts at 8pm, and play continues into the ten 'o clock hour. i ride my bike there, and he isn't comfortable with me coming home at a late hour... sensible. but no one notices me when i ride home - they don't notice my blonde hair or watch when it's dark and i am riding on my bike... fast. one night i came home around 11pm, and matias was nowhere close to being happy about that. so he sat me down to talk about it... hours after he had gotten home from brazil. he was tired, i was tired due to lack of sleep thanks to mosquitos. i could tell that the conversation was going to go nowhere fast, so i tried to stop it... needless to say, one thing led to another... and i stopped talking, and he got quiet.

i had to go to the center to pick up my racquets that i had restrung, so i stood up and told him where i was going. he offered to take me, but i declined. he said it was raining, and i tld him to look outside... not a good moment for both of us. i went to the center which is no more than a ten minute bike ride away. i paid for racquets, and walked outside only to find that it was raining... i was unfazed... i like rain, right?

i started for home, and was over half way back when my day got better... i started to hear a funny sound, but i couldn't tell if t was me or not... it was. i got a flat tire, it was raining, and it all could have been avoided had i not let me pride get the better of me... this wasn't happening. 

oh but it was! 

i tried valiantly to wheel my bike home. i discovered that is much much much easier said than done. i learned that the air tube on a bike is extremely necessary... then i tried to carry it. i have a heavy bike... don't forget... it's still raining.

i made to within two blocks of the house... i had no strength physically or mentally or emotionally to continue. so i locked up my bike. it made sense to me. i locked it up to a metal post. no problem. i walked a block and a half home wet, but still held my head high. 

i totally forgot about my bike to be completely honest. i forgot about it all the way up until matias was driving me to the terminal where i was going to catch a bus to saenz pena (see below). i casually mentioned it to him... and he sorta freaked out. 

he said it would be a miracle if my bike was still there. i was confused. i locked my bike up, to a metal post no less... with a good lock. i have a healthy history of losing things. i am not exactly proud of that, but it has allowed me to gain a certain amount of ambiguity when these situations arise. all you can really say is "oh well, what's done is done," and then move on. matias can't do that yet... it's probably a good thing, though. i need to be balanced out. he got super quiet, and all he could think about was my bike and getting back to the spot where i had left it. he was so preoccupied that i barely got a hug goodbye. the poor guy... i am a handful.

i got a text two hours later, my bike was still there, and he had taken back to the house where it would be safe and sound... what a good boyfriend, right?