Sunday, July 22nd, 2007

I have never been a " griper". Headstrong, yes. Quick to react, yes. Severly lacking in patience, yes. But griping? I have always left that for the next person. Until today! Being a beautiful summers morning, I thought to meander my way to work using the scenic route along the lake. Hot coffee in the coffee holder ( Tim Hortons of course), windows rolled down, and easy listening music on the radio as i cruised past the stately homes with manicured lawns and sprawling gardens. Rather idyllic, I must say. Then, I saw them! The bane of every motorist to dare travel a winding lakeshore road on a Sunday morning! The Cyclist Gang! Now we are not talking about the mountain bike, cut off jeans and sneakers type here. No way! We are talking about overweight middle aged men and women in skin tight spandex shorts and tops of multi-colored, florescent nylon. The kind that remind you of an explosion in a paint factory. Tractor tans, the color of a fudgesickle! Oh, stop your giggling, you've seen them! Don't these people have children to say " Mom, Dad, you are NOT going out in public wearing those shorts!" I would imagine that these are the same " snowbirds" that haunt the Florida beaches in the winter months; 100 mm cigarette in one hand and a lite beer in the other. I say lite beer because it is less fattening. And every overweight middle aged man must strive to look his best in his new Speedo. Right? And the lite beer WOULD be less fattening if you didn't drink enough of it to float a battleship! But, I digress,,,, Following these weekend wonders and Lance Armstrong wannabes, I was tempted to scream out in my frustration," With the arses I am seeing, I hope that those bicycle frames are made of Titanium!" But I thought better of it and simply chewed another cigarette. And what of those bicycle seats anyways? Is it just my warped thinking, or do you really have to be a rectile masochist to ride one of things for mile upon mile? As I lapped the slowest of the pack; the older girl with no visible seat at all ,( are you getting the picture?) she turned and looked at me with al the enthusiasm of a hampster on a treadmill! A face like she was weened on a pickle! I was tempted to call out, " Are we having fun yet?" But, I thought better of it and continued chewing my cigarette. At this point, I switched to a hard rock station and cranked it! Ready to make my move on the pack! An open thousand feet of road, and I gunned it! As I raored past, they all flipped me the bird, in unison! A few miles ahead, I saw another cycle gang taking a breather. All crotch lumps and sweaty bicycle seats! As I passed them, I slowed down, lit up another cigarette, slowly edged my arm out the window, and flipped them the bird! God bless Sunday mornings,,,,,