Tossing and Tortured 'Till Dawn

I come back to you now, at the turn of the tide.

Friday, June 06, 2008

Cultural Difference:

My neighbors in the apartment across from me have two young daughters, one an infant, the other perhaps four. Yesterday, I was heading out for a bike ride, then to work, so I had my pannier-equipped bike beside me. I waited for them to go down the stairs, but the four-year-old is in that phase where she's got to have a conversation with everyone.

"Do you live THERRRE?" she asked, and I told her that I did. She looked at my bike. "Do you have to carry that down the STAIRRRRS?" Yes, I say, it's not very heavy.

Eventually her mother convinces her to come along, I clomp my cleated feet down the concrete steps, and the three of them head toward their Ford Focus. Then, as I swing my leg over the saddle and clip in, the four year old turns around again:

"Waiiiit. Where's your ca-RRRR?"

On my way north on Marine View Drive, I rode past the Shell station on Norpoint way. They were selling diesel at $5.119 per gallon.


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