This morning I got up and prepared to go to my 11am yoga class. I walked downstairs at St. Vincents where I'm staying, and discovered that my beloved beach cruiser had been stolen, lock, granny basket, bell and all... I was positively devastated. I inherited that wonderful bike at a particularly low point in my life last year, when I was afraid I might end up destitute and lose everything (long story). I was walking down Allen's Lane towards the Intracoastal Waterway one day and spotted a pile of "stuff" in front of a big house and a sign that said "Take me... enjoy". Talk about good kharma! Next to the pile was the beach cruiser. The home owner was in the yard and said it was legit.
I was elated and was certain it was a sign to just trust that my needs would be met in unexpected ways. That bike was sort of symbolic and meant the world to me even though it was old, heavy and yes, a wee bit dorky. The first street bike I'd had in years, I loved riding it around Wrightsville Beach and the freedom it gave me to be in the thick of things with the wind in my face, covering more ground than walking had ever afforded me. I started taking it to the gym, church, the library, bank, grocery store... pretty much everywhere. The thought of leaving it behind in New Orleans makes me sad...
I hauled it over 1000 miles with me to New Orleans, strapped to the back of my car, with stops in Myrtle Beach and Chattanooga. I've ridden it every day since I got here and logged about 200 miles over the last 2 weeks. I don't think a shiny new bike could have brought me more happiness or been such reliable transportation, not to mention great exercise. Well, I guess there's a lesson in everything. Maybe I'll be "granted" a better one down the road somewhere... and maybe the a-hole who stole it will get run over by a "trolley". ha-ha. C'est la vie ;-(
After moping around and finding it impossible to focus in yoga class, I decided to just suck it up and ride the streetcar downtown. It was packed to the gills with tourons, easily identified by their loudly refering to the streetcars as "trollies". I'm such a local now... ha-ha.
After a 10 minute ride, I went to "mystery shop" the Acme Oyster House, a wonderful old New Orleans restaurant in the French Quarter. It's hard to be depressed for too long while sucking down a dozen freshly shucked oysters, hot seafood etouffee, juicy soft shell crabs AND bananas foster cheesecake, all FREE! Oink... needless to say, I have a big box of leftovers! I'm hoping the neon Acme Oysters sign at the bar is the reason I look so ghastly, despite my retro Jacquie O top. So... I lost a bike today... and gained 5 pounds. fair trade? A couple of the cool maintenance guys at St. Vincent's felt my pain and hooked me up with a loaner bike until I leave in a few weeks. Nice! Then a guy sitting in the courtyard this evening gave me the name of the casting coordinator for a film they're shooting here, so I called and asked for some work as an extra. Gotta pay for a new bike after all... donations gratefully accepted ;-)
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