I was born in the year of the pig [or, as I like to call it, the year of the boar]. I don’t say this to justify my adoration of food, but because, by sheer luck [or misfortune], the year in which I was born blessed me with a streak of stubbornness and, worse, a one-track mind. And when I say “one-track mind,” I mean the kind where, if I lose one train of thought, it’s probably not coming back. Ever.
Sometimes I like to think that I’m getting better at pretending to be as ADD as everyone else around me. But unlike the rest of the world, when my brain goes racing off on a tangent, I'm pretty much never coming back to my original train of thought. I can apparently only focus on one thing at a time.
“Hey, so, I wanted to ask,” I started, yesterday, dutifully filling in for Mike by parking my butt on the NYC Velo couch. I trailed off.
“.....Ohhhh, who’s Serotta??? So niiiice. Hey, whose is this? Man. Wow.”
“So what were you trying to ask?”
“You were trying to ask something. Before you got distracted,” Andy informed me.
Even now I can’t remember what in the world I was trying to ask. I think I did remember, though, after about 3 solid minutes of deep thought. But back to the Serotta - a black one. It was Andy’s, and when I pointed out the flat pedals, he pointed to his waterproof shoes [it was pouring out] and mentioned that he had gotten the pedals at the Brooklyn Bike Jumble. I hadn’t realized he had even purchased anything.
Given that I was there, it was probably my one-track mind at work again. After Cafe Grumpy, the three of us headed to the Brooklyn Bike Jumble to check out bikes, parts, and clothes in our Lycra and cleats. There were vintage frames, a BMX bike with an amazing “Predator” decal on it, and a good showing of bike friends. We made it about ¼ of the way around the outside of the jumble before bumping into Abe and Tyler of Outlier, both of whom I haven’t seen since...oh...INTERBIKE LAST YEAR.
We caught up a little, and I got to see their new merino T shirts in person. They’re making polo shirts out of the same soft fabric now, and when I saw a guy try it on, I started running down the list of upcoming holidays to find an excuse to grab one for Mike. No holiday is necessary to stop by their new space on Saturdays to try on their women’s pants, though. I promised I would [and oh, I will].
Mike and I picked our way through the booths and tables with our bikes, squeezing past various frames and laid out bike parts. I got to meet John Prolly, got some hugz from Ethan Laekhouse [hands down one of the most hilarious people to sit on a bicycle], and met Harry, who recently organized the Coney Island Velodrome exhibit at the Old Stone House [is that enough name-dropping for you?]. All of whom were super down-to-earth and reminded my stubborn brain that I should be doing that whole socializing thing a lot more.
Our stomachs growling and my phone blowing up [for once] with my sister on the other end, we left soon after for lunch at Tom’s Restaurant. An hour or so after nomming on baked goods, we were stuffing our faces full of eggs and toast and good ol’ diner coffee.
Because even with easily distracted one-track mind, I always seem to remember the importance of coffee.