Back at it again with the yard work. Sarah J and I took the red mustang for a spin down the block to the other worksite because there is no Walking Culture in Dallas. She and I touched up Patricia’s shutters with white paint, which is harder than you’d think thanks to the crevices of all the washboardy parts of the shutter and if you cannot see the top part of the shutter because you are an average-heighted American woman.
After lunch (spinach wrap again holllllaaaaaaaaa at me, vitamins K, A [in the form of carotenoids], B2, B6, E,and C), returned to the yard I was at the day before because I was such an essential worker then they needed me back to do a bit more watching people do things. This is called being in the managerial class, and it is at a higher pay level and requires more advanced degrees.
Then it was to the bike shop to get my bike fit. For the first time. When I told Jack I wanted to go to get my bike fit, he said, “oh, you want it refit?” No, I corrected him. Fit at all. He gave me a look as angry as if I had just said I had been on my stock fit, which I essentially was, since I was riding on the fit my bike had out of the box. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I hope that sorry was to you,” he replied. At the shop, one guy checked out my bike and told me my rear derailleur was broken, preventing me from smoothly getting into my easiest two gears. I knew that I couldn’t get into those, but I’m happy to have a reason. He said he could try to snap it into place, but it might break and they didn’t have my brand int he shop. I was willing to take the chance, but he wasn’t. I don’t need those gears for now anyway, I guess.
A guy named Kevin fit my bike for free because he was “bored and had nothing to do.” Kevin is pretty much the only 26 year old in Plano, and at his lowest point he just played video games all day. Now he is trying to become the fastest sprint cyclist in Texas. He said he goes super fast for a few hundred meters and then sits for ten minutes. I have been training and have gotten my sitting time up to ten minutes so I am halfway to being the best cyclist in Texas too. Kevin made changes to my bike like moving the seat in some direction, bumping in my handlebars so they look like I fell on my bike on both sides, and selling me a shorter stem. He told me that I should have gotten a smaller sized bike, but I went to a Giant dealer in LA and tried on the bikes with a guy, so that’s on that guy. An unexpected benefit of this trip has been the chance to hear men try to figure out how to refer to female genitalia in a professional and athletic manner. While one person just straight up said, “is your bike seat hurting your clitoral area?” I have more often heard references to “soft tissue” and “sensitive tissue.” I might bring these terms into the bedroom. I also bought a new pair of high, turquoise socks, replaced my long-lost water bottle with a better one than the starter water bottle I had bought at WalMart, and got a pair of gel gloves. Kevin said he liked minimal gloves, but perhaps Kevin does not ride on chip top.
Back at Sally’s, she had gotten us a pizza truck so we could order individual pizzas, and people had turned on the Bachelorette. A line I heard from the show was, “don’t poke the Chad bear,” Chad being a contestant for Jojo’s heart, and I have really taken to this expression. I am aware that it has no lasting power, in a broader cultural sense so it is and will remain something I really just say to myself, in my head or out. It had been so long that I forgot to go to bed early, but in the end I hunkered down for one last night in my Amish quilt sandwich next to Meegan and Youn Buhl in the front room.