This is dedicated to everyone who knows I have a thing for hipster boys on bikes... namely me, and in honor of my being reuinted with my bike, which lives down south. I always check out all the kids on bikes when walking across the bridge, myself, so I feel her pain. Kind of. She gets a little florid & verbose, and it's another case of MC-as-diary-entry. But I guess I'm a sucker for that. The girl knows what she wants.
boys riding bicycles across the bridge on a serene evening! - w4m -23
I’m riding across the bridge headed to manhattan and it’s nighttime, a clear night, the skyline all aglitter. It’s cool and temperate so I’m nearly sweatless… You pass me across the river, you’re going to brooklyn and I make briefest eyecontact with one, two three of you… I always wear a dress with
shorts underneath and your eyes hesitate on my thighs for only a moment… or
perhaps it’s wishful thinking.
I’ll be returning later in the evening, but I want to stop you to mention
that we should simply travel together. I know it may be difficult to hold hands
while on such a peregrination, or to even ride side by side in casual
conversation. I’m happy enough to ascend more quickly than you, arriving at the
plateau only to have you race past and beat me to the other side. My legs grow
stronger every day, but I can’t deny that chasing after a righteous man should
aid my ever flourishing musculature.
Why are the boys who find my tail a tantalizing chase lacking in bicycles?
Instead they tend to smoke too much pot, watch episodes of the simpsons and
mystery science theater on repeat, shop at H&M compulsively, wash their hair
with disconcerting frequency, attempt to woo me with irritating songs on a
harmonica, and offer to take me to whitecastle for a slider in the car so we
won’t have to move our legs in the slightest. [Tiny Gines says: Hey wait a minute, that sounds pretty flipping sweet to me...except the hair-washing. Washing your hair is soooo played out.] But I want to move my legs! How
long it’s been since I’ve ridden with a boy, side by side, over bridges and
across pleateaus, through valleys and over mountains… How much I miss these
pleasures! I want to ride with you, arriving cool and vigorous and in a state of
subtle ecstatic bliss! Or maybe we’ll never arrive, only to adventure through
the night and into the early morning dawnlight. Exercise, heartsplosion.
Next time you see me, one of us should turn around. Better times are
inevitable.
Verdict: Bike love, what!
