I'm very angry with my bike right now.
The back tire went flat last night at 2 am while I was about a mile away from my house. This was infuriating and humiliating and something I could barely forgive. Fortunately for the bike, a very cute boy walked me home and I found I couldn't stay mad for long.
So today Irene towed the bike in the back of her truck out to Fairhaven, where I got the tire fixed. Since bikers in general are smart and generous people, they suggested a few things I should keep on hand in case it happens again. I took their advice, picked up some supplies and went home with excitement in my heart, ready to take on the town as usual.
Right as I passed the WECU building on Holly, the front tire died.
I walked that bitch back home and spent an hour trying to fix it. Maybe my arms aren't strong enough to use an air pump, maybe I didn't even put the new tube back on correctly, but mostly I think that every part of that red monster despises me and decided to just spit back out every bit of air I put into it.
So I left the tire in the kitchen and stuck it out on the back porch to think things over. And maybe I'll call one of the bike gang founders tomorrow to see if they can fix it.
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