|The Wednesday mystery. When I parked Wednesday morning, the front wheel was on the sidewalk. But this is the bike Wednesday evening around 4--note that the wheel is far from cement now. How did the bike move a foot north?|
Anyway, so Wednesday is one of my few “early” days, along with Friday, meaning it is not pitch-black when I head for home on those two days of the week.
And when I went to my bike to prepare for the ride home Wednesday afternoon, the surprise was that my bike was not where it had been. It had moved.
That’s a bit disturbing. Am I stuck in some new Stephen King horror story, this one about a bicycle that is really a demon from Hell? Called “Christina” (because Christine was a car)? Or, since it’s a bicycle, “Barbara Ann?” I don’t know why that sounded like a demon bike’s name, it just did. Like a bike that could sever your limbs. “Take my hand, oh Barbara Ann ….”
OK, a better bike name would be “Daisy,” which at least references an old bike song, but who would have fear running down their spine caused by a demon from Hell named “Daisy?”
Anyway, while it had clearly moved, it was still easy to find because it only moved a few feet. Some weeks ago, the maintenance department at MMU relocated the bike rack by Warde Hall into a garden area near the building. While this means that I’m not parking on pavement—which is a bit disconcerting—it was a positive move due to poo. Pigeons perch in the upper regions of Warde Hall and freely let their feces fly on sidewalk, pedestrian and parked bicycle. So the rack move to the garden meant my bike would no longer be sitting all day in the pestilence pigeon poo zone. I approve.
But, when the rack was first moved, it meant that when I parked, the front wheel of my bike would always intrude, a little, on the sidewalk leading from the Pit parking lot to Warde Hall. This made me feel bad. Not really, really bad, mind you, just a minor “meh” bad since there was still plenty of sidewalk to use. I was a bit concerned, having a black bike that stays parked until black night, that some unwary walker could one evening become entangled in my front basket.
Either the demon that inhabits my bike or the ground crew at MMU must have had the same thought, because on Wednesday morning, when I parked my bike, the front handlebars were trespassers in pedestrian space. But on Wednesday evening, when I came out to unlock my bike, the front handle bars were a few inches away from the sidewalk. The whole rack had been shifted a couple of feet north.
By MMU custodians? Or merely pushed there by the demon in my bike? If so, at least it’s a rather polite, thoughtful demon. “Pardon me while I possess this bicycle and torment its owner, but in the meantime I shall push this rack so as not to intrude upon you, dear walkers.” Stephen, would the demon in Christine have ever been so nice?
A nice demon. What shall we call her? Of course. Daisy.