Rounds 89 and 90

My face is red.

Seriously, R-E-D.  In a recent post (the one directly below this ) I lost my cool about having to pay to put air in my tires at the James Bay Esso.  I’m not going to get into the details again, but just the thought of paying for *air* was enough to make my internal temperature reach a dangerous level.  I rode my bike to work for at least 2 days on “splashy tires” because I was to stubborn and upset to bring change with me to the gas station.  Saturday afternoon, my front tire was so flat, I had to stop.  I brought a quarter and a loonie, positive that one or the other would get me some sweet, sweet compressed air.  Wrong.  The machine ONLY takes quarters, and it costs 4-bits.  Fail.

Seconds later I stroll into the lobby of this joint, ready to go BALLISTIC, for all the wrong reasons.  The second the lady behind the counter saw that I was on a bike, and needed air for my tires, she casually says: “I’ll just turn it on for you, press the red button on the side to start it up.  Have a nice day!”.  Win.  Thank You James Bay Esso!  I felt like a giant D-B at that moment.  Lesson learned.

I mentioned that I did a little service work and cleaning on the Prairie Bullet the other weekend.  I’m no expert, but I’m guessing that I let my bike go a little “too long” before I gave it a good scrubbing.  If my bike was a car, the “service engine” light would have went on in December.  Check this out:

Yuck.  It’s a lot cleaner now, and running smoother as a result.

Dave: 90

Global Warming: 0


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