There are a few things I enjoy. One of them is riding my bike. It's like dancing. Or I guess it's like dancing. I wouldn't really know because I don't dance. I assume it's like dancing. It's probably as close to dancing as I'll ever get. It's not really like dancing. But it's graceful if you do it. It's an art form. Riding your bike through a crowd of people, weaving and changing speeds like the wind. Like dancing.
I've taken to parking my car at my friend's apartment lately. I don't think she approves because it creates the possibility that we meet up in person. I pretend that doesn't bother me. The ride from there to campus is about 20 blocks. As I rode back to my car tonight a couple of bicycle cops came up behind me and then passed me in the street. My bag was extremely heavy and cutting into my throat. It was difficult to breathe and also my arm was going numb from the lessened blood flow. Not really thinking about anything I jumped the curb and started following them. I followed them for about 10 blocks before I called out to the nearest one. "Hey dude, what's it like being a bicycle cop?" He looked a little confused. I guess people don't really do that. They slowed to a stop, so I stopped too. The one in lead turned to look at me. "Hey dude," he said. "You want to know what it's like to be arrested?" "Um." I replied. "No," his friend said. "What it's like to be a bicycle cop." The first cop glared at me as the other explained how they patrolled West Campus for burglars and arrested people. "Your bike has no reflectors on it," the first one said. "And no lights either. You're riding at night and people can't see you." "Have you been following us?" His friend piped in. "Dudes," I said. "Chill. I'm just riding around." "Okay." Said the second cop. They left and I continued to my car. The road where my car was parked had no street lights at all. I stopped for a second at the corner to see where my car was. A scraggly, scary looking homeless man lifted himself from his bench and started making his way towards me. I rode my bike very quickly to my car and left. There were some deer on MOPac, so that was nice. I did not hit them.
I've taken to parking my car at my friend's apartment lately. I don't think she approves because it creates the possibility that we meet up in person. I pretend that doesn't bother me. The ride from there to campus is about 20 blocks. As I rode back to my car tonight a couple of bicycle cops came up behind me and then passed me in the street. My bag was extremely heavy and cutting into my throat. It was difficult to breathe and also my arm was going numb from the lessened blood flow. Not really thinking about anything I jumped the curb and started following them. I followed them for about 10 blocks before I called out to the nearest one. "Hey dude, what's it like being a bicycle cop?" He looked a little confused. I guess people don't really do that. They slowed to a stop, so I stopped too. The one in lead turned to look at me. "Hey dude," he said. "You want to know what it's like to be arrested?" "Um." I replied. "No," his friend said. "What it's like to be a bicycle cop." The first cop glared at me as the other explained how they patrolled West Campus for burglars and arrested people. "Your bike has no reflectors on it," the first one said. "And no lights either. You're riding at night and people can't see you." "Have you been following us?" His friend piped in. "Dudes," I said. "Chill. I'm just riding around." "Okay." Said the second cop. They left and I continued to my car. The road where my car was parked had no street lights at all. I stopped for a second at the corner to see where my car was. A scraggly, scary looking homeless man lifted himself from his bench and started making his way towards me. I rode my bike very quickly to my car and left. There were some deer on MOPac, so that was nice. I did not hit them.
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