Well, That’s One Way

by

To stay in Paris–I could die here.

I thought to myself as I hollered out, “hold the fuck on!” And something intelligible that sounded suspiciously like a whoop of pure joy.

I was at the top of Boulevard Haussmann, heading into the 12 avenue turnabout at the Arc de Triomphe on my sparkle pony, er, my fixed gear Mission Bicycle.

It was not exactly a conscious decision, I had taken one wrong turn on my way towards Avenue George V, and it put me headed up to the round about instead of just below it where I would normally cross the Champs Elysees on my bicycle.

Then again, let me be honest, once I realized where I was headed, I did have the opportunity to change my mind, hop off the bike, cross the street in the cross walk on foot.

But what fucking fun would that be?

Huh.

Besides when I saw someone on a Velibe slowly making his way through the round about, I was like, no way am I going to not do this.

Here’s to having one more feather in my Paris cap–riding my bicycle in one of the more intense traffic scenarios in the world.

I did have a moment, I will not lie, when a bus was coming and a motorists was honking at a woman who was indecisive about merging.

Move, bitch, get out the way.

I was on the side of the honking car, you have got to make the decision and commit.

I committed, rolled past her, stood on my pedals, and whooped some more joy.

I spun around three-quarters of the round about and hit my turn off onto the Champs Elysees, spinning my crank smoothly into the turn and leaning to the right, I almost blew the Japanese tourist, timid on the corner waiting for the light to change, a kiss as I signaled my right turn.

The smile stayed plastered on my face, the adrenalin coursed through my veins, the sun shone on my warm body, my heart beat solid strong and smooth as the pedals turning perfect circles with my sheathed feet in their purple Hold Fast foot retainers.

“Why don’t you take your bike for a ride if the sun comes out,” my room-mate suggested this morning as we were discussing tickets back to the states, money, and what to do about my bike.

I thought in my head, “fuck off.”

I said out loud, “that’s a good idea.”

I had absolutely no intentions of getting on my bike.  I had an agenda and a plan and I knew better.  Besides I have not ridden my bike as much as I would normally ride as I was holding onto it as my last bit of collateral.

I will sell it if I have to.

“Why sell your most prized possession if I’m willing to pay for your ticket and you have a year to pay me back?”  My room-mate said with some wisdom.

Well, because then I would feel obligated to go back to the bike shop, tail tucked between my legs, see I did not make it in Paris, I am a failure, and I sold my beautiful bicycle.  Will you take me back and let me design another.

Then I realized, sheesh, I had to pay a lot of money for my bike, even if I got what it was worth, which I would not, not going to be many takers for my midnight blue sparkle pony whip.  She is a little too customized.

Nice Ride

Nice Ride

I don’t want to go back to work at the bike shop, however.  I realized as I was writing this morning, after my room-mate left and I was alone with the quiet of the pen on the paper, that to sell my bicycle is to be making a fear based decision.

Holding onto the idea that I do not have enough and that there will not be enough is not allowing myself to embrace the abundance and prosperity the Universe has for me.

Hell, it’s only the 2nd of April, all sorts of miraculous things are in the works.

Just because I cannot see them does not mean that they are not.  So, things are not working out the way I want them too.

Usually what I want is near sighted and not nearly as amazing as what God wants for me.  So much so, that I always sell myself short, I say no, that cannot happen and I argue my own limitations.

As the pen stroked the paper it dawned on me bright and clear.

I don’t want to sell my bicycle!

I want to ride my bicycle.

I got so excited, I leaped up and adjusted the saddle and pumped up the tires to 120 psi.

I grabbed my u-locks–one for the frame and the rear rim, one for the front rim–tossing them in my Rickshaw custom messenger bag.  Which just so happens to have been designed to match my bike.

That’s right, bitches, my bag does not match my shoes, it matches my bike.

I got a bottle of fizzy water out of the fridge that I had set aside for the open mic at Le Chat Noir, which I ended up not attending so I could get up early today and take care of some business.  I nearly danced out the door with my sparkle tights on, my sparkle infinity scarf, and my Converse tight on my feet, ready to hit the streets.

The ride, aside from the excitement by Place de l’Etoile, was like signing my favorite song at the top of my lungs in the shower, I had a smile on my face and a, yes, song in my heart.

I had the facile idea that whatever choice I was going to make about the bicycle would be the wrong one.  Knowing, only too well, that I just needed to make a decision, thinking about it was not taking action.

I choose the path of faith instead of fear.

I may be stuck in the hallway of not knowing what is going to happen next, with Paris, with life, with where am I going to live and what job am I going to do, but I don’t care.

I’ll be riding my bicycle there.

Hanging Out

Hanging Out

 

 

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2 Responses to “Well, That’s One Way”

  1. AlexJB Says:

    :-O My heart is in my throat at the thought of you selling your bike. I mean, sure, it’s just a thing. It’s just a possession, and one shouldn’t let one’s possessions possess them. But hell, you’re living pretty close to the bone as it is. You’re pretty far away from being a prisoner to your ‘stuff’. And certainly if it were life or death, I’d say drop it on it’s sparkly little butt.

    But it doesn’t seem like life or death.

    The bike seems like such an emblem of your mobility, your freedom of movement! To let it go for what would surely be a paltry sum just seems a darned shame. I’m glad you’re holding on to it.

    • auntiebubba Says:

      Big smile! I know, after yesterdays ride I just could not. I am currently researching flights back with my room mate and trying to stay calm.

      CALM. Damn it. I may be seeing you and the lady soon.

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