home alone
Friday night.I pulled the key down off the ledge over the door and let myself in. My roommate had moved out already, so the place was empty of normal furniture. All that was left was a bread rack supporting a host of computer equipment, perching like gargoyles, and a fake ficus tree.
I have not owned a ficus tree, but I guess I do now. I have decided to call it Charles.
Activities for this fine friday evening included me grinding the rear dropouts on my bike out to 14mm to allow my new rims to slide into place. The whole operation was great fun. Sparks shot everywhere in an incendiary pinwheel.
Once I got the bike fixed I took it down to the gas station to fill the tires up. I also purchased a tire pressure gauge.
The girl at the counter said "What is that thing anyway?".
"It's a marital aid." I told her.
"Oh..."
I got home and took my bike off its little carrier thing on the back of my car, and went riding around the apartment complex some. I rode down some stairs by the pool, and into the little room where the payphone is.
When I got home I cleaned everything up, including my hands, which were covered in grease and metal filings by this point.
After getting kind of bored I realized that with all the furniture gone I might just be able to ride my bike around inside, where it is warm.
I found out that crashing into a closet door makes a LOT of noise.
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