T. fixed my bike for me this weekend (you know, the one I acquired
this day). He spent the weekend at his mom's house babysitting her cat, and he needed something to do. I myself have never felt so great a need for something to do that I would volunteer to fix someone's bike, but I guess T.'s handy like that.
Also, I think he wants someone to bike with. I have told him that I'm not getting up at 5:45 A.M. (as he does) to go for a ride. I am also not going biking when it's 100+ degrees outside. T. says it's cooler in the morning, and I reiterate that I'm not getting up at 5:45. T. also is mapping out a 14-mile ride for us. I have also repeatedly told him that I can't go 14 miles, that I am sadly out of shape. I don't think my comments are making much of a dent, though, even when I told him the story about
my last bike ride. But at least his other friend G., who is similarly reluctant to take long bike rides, will probably go with us, so I won't be the only one griping about how far it is.
So, anyway, when T. called Friday afternoon to say that he was free to come over and pick up my bike, I thought, what? Company? But...but that means I have to brush my teeth. And put on deodorant. And pants. But at least my bike is getting fixed. Poor T. had to see me in my usual working-on-thesis attire (and accompanying coiffure). Not pretty.