"I saw you on Comm Ave last night," a friend said.
"I thought about opening my door on you. You know, just to make it a little more challenging."
As if this weather wasn't challenging enough. I feel like a Yeti on a tricycle these days - sans the training wheels [unfortunately].
Yeah, I know, I know; I knew what I was getting into by deciding to be a year-round commuter in Boston, so I shouldn't be complaining. I really wouldn't be whining so much if there weren't so many goddamn obstacles!
It's not even the insane drivers who, through their sheer douchery, will teach you how to stubbornly take the lane and stay there while they honk at you incessantly. It's the potholes.
Like my sanity due to being deprived of warmer weather, the streets are cracking under the pressure of snow, cold, and everything else. And of course, no one's really doing anything about it.
Okay, so maybe I should do something about it. But at this point it's almost like a masochistic little game. I want to see how long it'll take until the whole street is just one big hole. And then I want to see how long it'll take the city to notice it.
And of course, while this is all happening, I want to see if I can learn - through sheer necessity - how to do wheelies and bunny hops so I can climb out of any holes I get into.
Come next 'cross season, I'll probably be owning the races too. So, thanks, Boston!