The first time I left my bike chained to its little parking spot outside work, in order to attend a conference, I remember fretting about it in the ladies bathroom. I wanted to turn to the woman next to me and say with an exasperated sigh,
‘It’s his first time alone!’
‘Newborn baby?’ she would say sympathetically.
I respond with a heavy sigh.
‘Yes, I knew you’d understand’.
‘It’s hard leaving them on their own for the first night, I know how you feel’
‘Exactly! I mean it’s got a really strong chain wrapped around it the right way to make sure no one steals it’.
‘But I just feel like it’s so exposed to the elements out on the street like that, what if it rains!’
This imaginary conversation would probably end with her slapping me for bad parenting, not realising that I’m talking about my brand new vintage bicycle (dubbed Clomo after Clover Moore, champion of Sydney bike lanes, represent). How can anyone understand it?
Crazy dog people can understand it, that’s who! You know the ones: crazy people who have pet dogs and treat them like surrogate babies. How they clothe them like children and talk about sending them to school and finding a sitter when they go out and how hard it is to say goodbye to them before they go to doggie school, creepy, etc. and so forth.
I totally get all that now that I’ve invested in my two baby wheels.
My boyfriend and I find ourselves talking as though the bike really is our newborn baby.
‘Should we leave him in the hallway tonight?’
‘No, he’s not ready, it’s too soon! I NEED TO BE THERE IF HE CRIES AT NIGHT AND NEEDS ME’.
When laughing about a crazy situation where someone was trying to enlist my help for a dodgy, law-breaking thing called ‘insurance fraud’ (ha! those crazy kids) I told them to kindly take their insurance law breaking ways elsewhere, for I had no interest in helping them, GOOD DAY SIR. My boyfriend said this was very honourable of me.
But then he stopped in his tracks dramatically. I turned to him.
‘What? What is it?’
‘Nothing. I mean, I just thought…haha, well it probably won’t happen’
‘What. Tell me’
‘Well they might hurt someone you love…to try and get you to comply with them!’
‘OH MY GOD OF COURSE. THEY ARE THE MAFIA! I NEED TO GET TO CLOMO IMMEDIATELY AND MAKE SURE HE’S OKAY’
By ‘someone you love’, my boyfriend was referring to himself, of course. I’m letting our bicycle spawn get the better of me…
So naturally when I read the conditions about taking bikes on public transport, I read that most hours of the day you can take them with you. During peak hour however, you had to buy a child’s ticket for the bicycle.
Well played, Cityrail. Well played.