Dirtbag
THIS IS IT. I'M GOING. I'M GOING.
“I can’t believe you dragged me here,” Hanson hisses. His bike helmet is crooked and it makes him look like a complete asshole. I don’t say anything about it, though.
I make some shit up to avoid responding to this truthfully. “It’s good exercise, man.”
“Right, right. You just wanted to see me fall off a bicycle.”
“Everyone in this day and age calls them bikes,” I joke.
“Hey, guys!” Robbie shouts. Robbie is kind of like the leader. Everyone else stops talking and lets him do his thing.
Sometimes if I have a bad week I go to Night Riders. The title is lame as hell but I don’t mind. Night Riders is this group that gets together for late-night bike rides. It’s clever.
“We’re going to get started,” Robbie continues, “going around A-block, which is 2nd to 4th, then around Mulberry. If anyone gets lost, just call another rider. Any questions?”
“Yeah,” Hanson yells out, “where are the babes?” I punch his shoulder. He never fails to embarrass me.
But Robbie doesn't hear him and starts pedaling. Everyone follows and then we’re riding.
I make some shit up to avoid responding to this truthfully. “It’s good exercise, man.”
“Right, right. You just wanted to see me fall off a bicycle.”
“Everyone in this day and age calls them bikes,” I joke.
“Hey, guys!” Robbie shouts. Robbie is kind of like the leader. Everyone else stops talking and lets him do his thing.
Sometimes if I have a bad week I go to Night Riders. The title is lame as hell but I don’t mind. Night Riders is this group that gets together for late-night bike rides. It’s clever.
“We’re going to get started,” Robbie continues, “going around A-block, which is 2nd to 4th, then around Mulberry. If anyone gets lost, just call another rider. Any questions?”
“Yeah,” Hanson yells out, “where are the babes?” I punch his shoulder. He never fails to embarrass me.
But Robbie doesn't hear him and starts pedaling. Everyone follows and then we’re riding.