Not long after I took this picture, I was cruising along thinking how wonderful it is that I can go somewhere on my bike and not have to carry a purse or worry about running out of gas. Suddenly, I felt everything under me shift and I felt myself starting to go down. I pulled my bike over and hopped off just as my bike seat and all of its attachments flew into the middle of the road. I was so confused...what just happened? I gathered all of the pieces from the bike lane and assessed the damage.
As I was considering my options, I took out my phone to turn off my bike app. I've been tracking my rides for the past few weeks and I've been waiting and waiting for it to hit 100 miles. And what do you know...the minute my seat fell off, I hit 100 miles. Happy 100 miles to me.
So, there I was, stranded on the side of the road. There was nothing on the bottom of the seat to hold it to the post, and the screws were all broken. It was rush hour, so I knew even if there was a taxi driver somewhere in this city nice enough to put my broken bike in his car, he had already been hired by someone with smaller problems than me. I didn't know what else to do, so I started walking the 5ish miles back toward my apartment. I walked...and I walked...and I walked.
I passed a taxi driver washing his car with a bucked of water from the stinky canal (counterproductive if you ask me), so I stopped and asked him for help. He tried to fix my bike seat and then I explained to him that I actually just wanted a ride home. He said some derivative of "There's no way I'm putting your bike in my car," so I took my seat back, stuck it back under my arm, started crying, and continued walking.
Sometime later, I finally came to a place that looked familiar. By this time I had been walking for at least an hour. I decided to try and make it to the shopping area where I bought the bike, and I also decided I was tired of walking. (I had made the poor decision to wear flip flops on this journey.) I made my way toward a less crowded street and decided I was going to try riding the bike. I balanced the seat on the post and carefully sat down. I turned on my blinking "headlight" proceeded to clown-pedal all the way to emart, with my knees up near my armpits and my toes clinging to the pedals. With every bump my seat shifted slightly sideways.
I finally reached emart only to discover that the bike store was closed. At 7pm. On a Friday night. Ughhh! So I weighed my options. I could lock the bike up somewhere and leave it overnight, but likely come back to no bike. I could try and leave it in the bike lot. Or I could just wobble home on it and try another day. I decided a stolen bike was out of the question, so I went to the bike lady and asked her if I could leave it in her lot overnight. She said no...no one would be there to watch it overnight. So I begged. My end of the conversation went something like this: "This (point to seat) (imitate breaking sound and seat falling to ground). Please is it okay my bike here? Then tomorrow I come back. I so many so many walk. I'm so tired. This (point to seat) not good. I can't." She still refused. So I put the seat under my arm again...sulked away again...and cried again.
I pulled myself together and bought an iced milk tea. I drank it and took a minute to feel sorry for myself, and then I continued on. I put the seat back onto the post and wobbled toward home. Somewhere along the way my flip flop fell off in the middle of the street and I had to go back for it. Eventually I gave up and pushed the bike the rest of the way home.
I think I'll just stick to public transportation this week...
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