Rode without a helmet this morning. It happened by accident - one minute I was running to get under the closing garage door, the next I realized I'd left my helmet inside. Too much of a hassle to get the keys, go around the back, and risk waking everyone up, so I got on my bike and figured today is as a good day to die as any.
On the road, the streets are empty. Schools out. Fuck yeah. It's nice and quiet. I pass a dead skunk on the road. Poor little critter. Fucking murderous cars. I pass the morning drunks out by the train trestle, getting their Coors light on. I consider joining them, ya know, cuz, alcohol and weed are cheaper than the therapy that office jobs inevitably drive us to. But they're bros and hobos and a lot tougher than me and besides, I don't drink Coors.
Monday afternoon, at the bike rack by the bus stop on the corner of Mission and Bay I noticed two mountain bikes completely stripped down. Okay, well...their wheels and seats were gone but the handle bars and brake pads were still there. Around the area were multiple bike locks still clinging to the rack - no bikes though; and one lone front wheel - It wasn't even locked to anything. It was a sad sight and I thought, "yup, schools out." I thought, "bike vandals are like baby pigeons, you know they exist, but you never see them." I thought, "The cops will cut a lock to take away a striped frame, but what happens to the locks that have no frame or anything attached?" And then, I kept riding.