You say I missed a spot. I say it was on purpose…
A few days ago it was a very hot day in Troy, New York. I was riding my bike down 5th St. A man up ahead sat on hist stoop. When I approached he called out: “your friend is way ahead of you!”
I looked at him, said nothing, continued to slump, sweaty, over my handlebars. I was confused. But he covered for me. “Are you guys together?”
“No.” I said. Because we were not together.
I biked on.
Now on a bike path, shady and breezy, I passed four boys riding bikes. One asked: “Hey is that your friend up ahead?”
This time I went along with it. “Yeah it is. How far ahead is she?”
“Like twenty years ahead.”
They laughed. I laughed.
And I wondered about this woman. Maybe she was just a gal riding her bike. And people thought that since we were both women riding our bikes in the same direction we must be friends. If it is the case, mystery rider, that you were merely biking to yoga class, then you can forget this whole thing.
Maybe it was the way we both misapplied our sunscreen that made people think that we pertained to each other. If that is the case, I guess this doesn’t matter anymore.
But maybe you were carrying bags just like mine. Maybe you are a bike tourist, too. If that is the case, come find me in Montreal.
Anne Foster 