Oh Shelia

I have this bike that was gifted to me about 5 years ago. Her name is Shelia and she came with that name. I have always been perplexed that she was named. I thought that only Cabbage Patch dolls and American Girl dolls came with names. Since I did not pick Shelia out as my own, I was always a bit skeptical of her. I took her for a few rides and she was good enough. I even took her on a long weekend getaway. I had big plans about getting lost in Central Oregon with her, but didn’t. We went on a few rides and I spent most of that weekend wishing she was something she wasn’t, and that’s no way to be in a relationship. We all know when you start doing this, resentment soon follows. I took her home and put her in the garage, and that is when things went south for us. When I walk by her she will say, “Amy, are you going to ride me today, lazy whore? I know what your thinking, she has a foul mouth for a Canadian. I just ignore her and all her drama. However, she might have “suck it” written on her seat…

 She presently has spiders feasting on the insects caught in the webs between her spokes. I believe our relationship is similar to an arranged marriage, and I need to just accept that she is in my life and I.MUST.RIDE.HER. This perhaps could be a first world problem and it is plausible to consider that there are larger societal issues at stake, I’m watching the news right now and it’s terrifying to be honest. So, on my last day of my stay-catiion, I will venture out to my garage. I will wipe the “suck it” message gently off the seat and take that surly bitch named Shelia for a ride on the last sunny day in Portland.

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