Fat Bottomed Girls

the other day my neighbour knocked at my door and came in to chat. he was telling me about his day and was all, "...and i bought a bicycle for $5. hey, do you want a bike?" it was as though he read my mind; i have been looking to buy a bike for ages! i have a spot on my wall reserved for the bike rack that will hold the bicycle of my dreams. and now it sounded as though there was this bicycle heaven where bikes fall (i suppose) off the back of trucks and are sold for super-affordable amounts.

"well, yeah. where do you buy bikes for that cheap? i have a spot on my wall waiting for a bike!"

and neighbour said, well i was hanging out in washington square park and a crack head needed $5 for a fix and no one would give him the money. so he said, "i'll give you my bicycle for $5" (which, i guess, is better than some things i have seen crackheads offer, on television, for a fix). neighbour continues - so i said, are you sure? then i gave him the $5 and rode my bike home.

now i'm thinking... crackhead bike? well, this is not the heaven i imagined. do i really want this bicycle? at the same time neighbour is already wheeling the bicycle into my apartment. and boy what a bike.

older than sin. big, black, with three speeds. several of my friends from zimbabwe have said that it looks like the bicycles security guards used to ride to work when they were growing up, i.e. the cheapest bicycle available in a developing nation in the '80s. but the tyres are brand new. oh man! and heavy. and i live on the 4th floor... of a walkup.

and so my crackhead bike now takes up half my hallway. not because it is too heavy for me to carry up and down the stairs. not because i am not quite ready to be a zimbabwean security guard. but mostly because i have visions of being chased down the street by a crackhead demanind his stolen bicycle back.

bad karma. my brother has suggested ebay.