The universe was against me today; started the day with a flat, turned out to be a cut in the sidewall. I dicked around with it long enough to miss my pre-work ride window. Realizing I needed a new tire, decided to take everything to work and stop at the shop near my job.
Thinking it's easier to let the shop replace the tire and just pick it up on my dinner break, I asked them THREE times what time they closed; 8 o'clock, they told me each time.
"Great! Please replace the bar wrap as well, I'll be back this evening."
Shop was dark and locked when I returned at 7:30.
On the verge of a complete this-is-the-last-straw meltdown, I was dialing the shop to go total Alec Baldwin on their answering machine when one of those super friendly, cheerfully helpful, definitely not from New Jersey types approached me in the parking lot.
"I can absolutely help you! Just let me unlock the shop (sorry about the lights), and I'll get your bike"
I was completely disoriented by his kindness and eager professionalism. I'm still not entirely sure that I wasn't in a "next stop Willoughby" situation.
Back at work with my bike, everything blows up and I can't get out to ride. The last time this happened, I was stuck at work and couldn't start
my ride until after midnight, so chronometry fetishist Judgy McStickler slapped me with a mulligan.
At eleven pm, I stopped in the middle of what I was working on, unplugged the defibrillator, and went out to spin around the industrial park again.
Check out my activity on Strava:
https://strava.app.link/zMcaacdVVhb