I roller skate. I ride my bike, don't drive no car. Don't go too fast, but I go pretty far. For somebody who don't drive, I've been all around the world. Some people say I've done all right for a girl.
Janis Joplin
Jump ahead one week. (Note: if you haven't read yesterday's entry, this one will make no sense, so go get caught up...we'll wait!) Hop on my bike with panniers firmly anchored and seat correctly adjusted. Water bottle (check), wallet (check), phone (check), sunscreen (double check), and helmet (check). Off I go. Out the door in under five minutes. A new record!
Piece of cake. My first stop was Seafood Landing at 20th & Wadsworth, where I picked up the freshest piece of halibut and the proprietor offered to pack it in ice for me for the safe bike trip home. No need--although the gesture was above and beyond what I would have expected. I swung back by the house and dropped the fish into the fridge and took off again--this time to St. Kilian's Cheese Shop, where I confidently wheeled my bike right up to the counter (like the well-prepared biker dudette that I am, I had my lock, but there was no one else in the shop and the door was wide enough, so why not?) This prompted not only my usual in-depth discussion of cheese, but lead to a chat about Lufthansa Airlines, which apparently is allowing fliers to take their bikes on board without any excess baggage fees. (if someone can verify this, email me or post a comment--what a great deal if it's true!). Nonchalantly tossing my Gouda into my panniers like I've done this for years as opposed to one week, I left the shop, decided I wanted some wine, so pedaled like an old pro over to the new Highlands Pedestrian Bridge (also suitable for bikes) and down to Platte St. to visit the folks over at Corks where I picked up a delightful bottle (okay--two bottles) of white to compliment my fish entree and then a quick saunter over to Savory Spice Shop --the obvious choice to pick up the embellishments for Mr. Hal E Butt.
Flipping my bike lock into my pannier with an attitude of great insouciance, I headed off. After stopping to catch my breath on the hill at the bottom of 29th Ave. (Hey--I said I was new at this!) I popped over to Denver Bread Company to fetch the bread I'd blown off in frustration the week before (who was that frazzled woman anyway?). Cut up to Simple Foods for the vegies and home again, warbling "I got a brand new pair of roller skates, you've got a brand new key" at the top of my lungs. Yes, neighbors, that was me.
Home! Done in less than an hour and a half. Now I am an old pro. Moral of the story? Barbara is right--you do have to be prepared to really suck at something (I'm paraphrasing--Barbara would never say "suck", I'm quite certain!) in order to get good at it! It's kind of fun, actually (at least now it is--wasn't so great when I was in the "sucking" stage). My new goal is to suck at something at least once a month and see where it leads me!
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