We meet on Mondays and Thursdays. Today, I was running late to our meeting and ended up locking my bicycle (well, Katie's* actually) up at the Community Center just south of National Avenue and west of 6th Street. I race the final two blocks to our meeting place.
Cho and Shee usher me into the house, asking, "Bicycle?"
"Yes, yes. It's two blocks away. Not a big deal. I can walk and retrieve it later." Last session, I left my bicycle a 15 minute walk away from the house; so I appreciated their concern for my well-being.
Shee persisted, "Bicycle, here, walk; bicycle, here, walk."
"No, it's okay. I'll be fine. Thanks, though."
Shee laughs. "Bicycle, here, walk; bicycle...walk...here."
I laugh at what seems to be a misunderstanding. "Really, it's fine. I'll be okay."
. . . .
Two hours later the session ends. By this point, it's pouring rain (what are the chances?); huge, ominous, cumulus clouds are hanging out low to the ground; lightning is doing its job and the sky is aglow with thunder rolling ever so closer. Me, without rain jacket, as usual. But I'm optimistic. I've ridden through worse.
We bid farewell. I take off sprinting in the direction of the locked bicycle only to find the bicycle without a back wheel.
Somehow in the previous two hours, a bicycle tire thief came out with his/her toolkit (these wheels not being in the quick release wheel family), loosened the nut and bolt combination that secured the wheel, and off the wheel went with no trace. And, at a community center, nonetheless. The irony.
Next English lesson:
"Bring bicycle here or there will be no wheels."
* I've been sorely amiss without my bicycle this week. It's being repaired at the bicycle shop down the road. New chain, sprockets and a broken spoke are its ailments. In the meantime, my roommate Katie lent me her bicycle which is now without a wheel.
No comments:
Post a Comment