This last week has been pretty weird. Monday I was at work until about 10pm with Andrew because he was prepping his cyclocross bike for the upcoming winter commuting months. I gave him a ride home in the Mobile Van since he had 2 bikes here. We had a beer or two and some food and I came back to the shop and then rode home. I was in bed shortly after midnight. Not too bad.

Tuesday, Mark R came over to the shop after work and we ripped his commuter (97 Bianchi Eros) down to the bare frame and rebuilt it with all new Campy Centaur (with Record hubs and shifters). I gotta say, the Campy Ultra-Torque crank/bb’s are T-I-T tight! Anyway, we hooked up his ride and then split. I think we left near midnight, so I crashed out around 1 or 2am that night.

Wednesday, Molly came to the bikeshop. I’ve been working with her on her website for a while and we needed to do some more tweaking, so we did. Til 10ish? I don’t know about that one, because I stopped at the local watering hole on the way home that night. OOOOOPS! It’s one thing to stop by your local watering hole. It’s another thing to have the cook start chatting you up when he’s off cuz he recognizes you. It’s totally another thing to have an off-duty bartender include you in 2 rounds of shots cuz you’re sitting at the bar next to the cook (and cuz he recognizes you). And then it’s something else entirely when the active bartender says, “You like gin, right? There’s a bug in this one, so I can’t serve it, but I’d totally drink it myself, except that I hate gin. Tonic for you, right?” Oh shit…yeah, hook me up.

That night was all about me getting home just after last call, which is 2am in WA. Needless to say, my output on Thursday was pathetic. We actually got done what we could, but we had to order a bunch of parts for a bunch of repairs and Friday was looking like it was going to be FULL.

It was. Matt and I have taken to talking in a NY Italian accent at the shop, and holy shit we both suck at it. Add to that the fact that I’ve been having a long week, and my mouth was NOT working right at all. At one point I had a hammer in my hand and I was trying to speak, but I must have started the same word or sentence like 3 times and got nothing but mush-mouth, so I got pissed and said, “I’m having a bad talking day!”, and I (thought that I) tapped the top of the hairspray bottle with the hammer. NOPE. I NAILED it. In fact I nailed it so good, the finger-nozzle-thingy broke off and it started spraying all over the place.

Well, me being quick on my feet, I grabbed the can of AquaNet* and ran outside with it. Matt was laughing like a stoned hyena, and Dean was just shaking his head. I’m sure he was thinking, “These assholes work for me? I’m fucked.” It’s now a good 5hrs later and my legs feel taut. I got so much hairspray on my lower legs that my shins now look like they saw a ghost. Or maybe like they sing for The Cure. Whatever…

* AquaNet is the best friend of 80s hair metal bands and bike shops everywhere. It’s equally capable of teasing your hair straight up into the nosebleed seats AND sticking the slipperiest plastic grips to the smoothest handlebars.

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