PeaceBang

Girl On a Bike

A friend and I were having a bit of a giggle this past Sunday at the expense of the Serious Weekend Cyclists I refer to as “Codpiece Gents.” You know these guys. All dressed up in their Lycra shorts and alien headgear, wearing $600 cycling shoes, a skin-tight mesh shirt with some Italian or French logo on it, and taking themselves DEADLY SERIOUSLY. They whiz in front of your car hell-bent for nowhere in particular, they congregate loudly and self-importantly outside your favorite coffee joint, and they ride bikes that cost more than your car. They have very tight tushies, low cholesterol and a resting heart beat that puts yours to shame, and I’m sure they’re good to their wives and children (because as my gay male friend pointed out, they’re not gay, they just really like displaying their fit, fit bodies).

They make me laugh every time I see them. “Go, Spandex Boys, go!” I say to myself as they peddle furiously by. Because, you know, they’re just. so. serious. I like to cheer them on. They mostly seem to be Captain of Industry types and I’m sure they really need the release that biking gives them. I get it, I just think it’s unintentionally hilarious.

Thinking of these guys is what made me fall instantly in love with the gal in New York City yesterday.
I was sitting on the steps of the New York Public Library — you know, by the lions — waiting for a friend when I saw her. A beautiful girl in a skirt riding a simple bike — a Schwinn Breeze for God’s sake — the kind of bike you ride when you’re just trying to get somewhere. She rode fearlessly down 5th Avenue in front of a bus — no helmet, no Lycra, just a girl on a bike trying to make it to a date.

Here’s the bus she arrived just ahead of before she got off the bike and hauled it effortlessly up two levels of stairs like this one,

And here she is with her guy and her green (!) Schwinn Breeze,

I don’t know who you are, intrepid and beautiful young biking gal, but thank you for making me so happy and for giving me such a wonderful memory. I should advise you to wear a helmet, but I’m not going to. Because like the old Billy Joel song says, I love you just the way you are.