The bike I was riding is made by the None Of Your Business Folding Bike Company, the model is the "Who Fucking Cares?," and the color is "Off-Dork." It rides surprisingly well for a clown bike, though the front wheel does want to pop up a bit on hard acceleration, which I kind of like because it accentuates the cartooniness of the whole endeavor. It also folds up and breaks down in about two seconds, and as a bonus I have yet to get my genitals caught in it while doing so, which is one of my deepest fears. Best of all, I easily can get on and off trains with this glorified beach chair, yet not be dependent on said trains. It takes up little room on the subway, and I don't need to worry about peak or off-peak trains should I be inclined to take the commuter railroad.
In short, as I observed on the Twitter, it has twice the practicality of a regular bike with absolutely none of the cumbersome dignity.
Oh, and in case you're not already thoroughly horrified, you should know I was also wearing my Inspector Gadget-esque Criterion Cycling Jacket:
(Mine's tan though.)
It's oddly liberating when you break on through to the other side of dorkiness as I finally have. There you are pedaling away on a bar stool with a chain drive, sitting in that comfortably upright begging dog position, your tan flasher jacket fluttering in the breeze, and you've got a great big smile plastered on your face because you know your absurd appearance is giving other people the gift of laughter.
I should also disclose that the folding bike is equipped with a pie plate, and I have no intention of removing it, because really what's the point? Taking the pie plate off a folding bike because it's dorky is like removing a hair from your shit sandwich because it's unsanitary.
Anyway, I was glad to have the folding bike because I needed to spend the entire day in Brooklyn where I no longer have a home, I knew it was going to be a late night, and with a storm bearing down on us I wanted to be able to resort to the rails at the first sign of foul weather. (Another important part of relinquishing your youth is realizing it's stupid to ride almost 20 miles home in a blizzard at 1am.) Still, I wanted a bike to get around Brooklyn while I was there, because getting around Brooklyn without a bike sucks. I had business in Brooklyn all afternoon (I can't tell you what that business was, so let's just say I was selling drugs to schoolkids) and then after that I had to go to the Knitting Factory in (ugh) Williamsburg to be the master of ceremonies at this thing that happened.
To get from my drug dealing spot to the Knitting Factory I took the Great Hipster Silk Route, where I fought valiantly against a powerful headwind. (Or at least as valiantly as one can fight on a folding bike.) Along the way, I passed this chilling reminder of the recent death of a young couple and their child due to a speeding driver:
Note the shrewd placement of the sign so that it encroaches on the bike lane.
By the way, many New Yorkers complain that cyclists don't follow traffic laws. This is true. Cyclists flout the law far more egregiously than drivers. I mean, you'd never see a driver going the wrong way on a one-way street in a bike lane...or would you?
I did my best to photograph the car so it could be used as evidence after the hit-and-run, but this was the best I could manage:
Which doesn't really matter anyway since the police don't investigate hittings and runnings when the victim is on a bicycle--and while you may not consider a folding bike a bicycle, it's all the same crap as far as the NYPD is concerned.
When you arrive in Williamsburg from the south via the Great Hipster Silk Route you first pass through the Jewey part, and then you enter the douchey part. Upon making douchefall, I was appalled to discover that these douchebags now have a great big fancy movie theater:
I guess that's what happens when the Smart car demographic prices out the fixie demographic.
Douchebags.
Next, I had a lonely person's dinner, supping on burrito and margarita at a restaurant that used to be one of those new hipster places but is now an old neighborhood place where yuppies bring their kids:
I hate it when they put salt on my margarita. Is it possible to order a margarita with no salt and actually get one that way, or do I have to be one of those assholes who says they're "allergic?"
("Yah, and could you leave out the fennel? Because I'm like totally allergic.")
I suppose it works though, if only because when the server puts in the drink order he says something like, "No salt on the margarita, the asshole on the clown bike says he's 'allergic.'" [Makes wanking gesture.] Then, he comes back with your salt-free drink and says in an overly polite fashion, "Here's your margarita, Mr. Gadget."
Whatever works, I guess.
And one from Horse Cycles:
And one from King Kog:
And one from 718 Cyclery:
When it's on the Internet I'll let you know, assuming anybody tells me.
Now, I don't want to brag, but when you're a semi-professional bike blogger whose best blogging days are a good four years behind him, you get treated pretty well when you're invited to emcee an event. I mean, check out this lavish "green room:"
I didn't even have it all to myself either, because every time I walked back in there was a couple sitting on the sofa who looked like they were about to start making out.
Also, the mini-fridge was stocked with the finest in canned beers, and even though the evening was sponsored by Jack Daniel's I chose to stick to the Rolling Rock in order to increase my chances of remaining standing:
There was a time where pretty much any bar in the East Village would serve you a Rolling Rock as long as you looked older than six, and you'll be amazed to know that until I turned 21 I actually thought this was what beer was supposed to taste like.
Meanwhile, as I quaffed beer-infused water, a crowd began to amass outside:
(Today's Brooklynites just look like colder Portlanders.)
Then they spilled into the anteroom:
And finally amassed in front of the stage, where I stood in the wings looking for possible troublemakers:
Something about the cardigan on the guy in the front row screamed "trouble," so I had the bouncer eject him immediately.
Thanks, Gunther.
Next, I proceeded to botch my hosting duties in a series of flubs and miscues that culminated with my hitting an audience member in the face with a Knog Blinder when I threw it into the crowd during a giveaway. Speaking of Knog, I'm quite fond of the Blinders, and I've just received samples of the new Blinder Road lights, which I gather allow you to see in addition to being seen:
I'll report to you once I've had the chance to try them out (I'm going to attach them to the feral cats on my street and see how far I can track them), but in the meantime I get all teary-eyed with pride when I think of how Knog has gone from making little "hipster cysts" to equipping cyclists with the sort of serious illumination that will blast drivers' eyeballs right out of their fucking skulls.
Anyway, after nailing an innocent woman in the face with the pointy corner of a Knog light box, there was rock music:
And then we raffled off the bikes, and then there was more rock music, and then I headed over the Williamsburg Bridge towards my distant home. While there was no precipitation it was violently windy, though as it turns out folding bikes are actually excellent in crosswinds for the same reason that they're so dorky--they have teeny tiny wheels. Safely in Manhattan, I turned back for a final look at the Hipster Funnel:
("Abandon self-respect all ye who enter here.")
And while it would have been faster for me to take a subway I instead boarded a midnight Metro North train bound for the Great North Side, because I'm a sucker for the romance of railroad travel:
I may ride a folding bike, but I draw the line at urinating from between the subway cars.
119 comments:
Ass Monkeys… ATTACK!!!
first
Podes?
weed!
and... PODIUM!
Rolling Rock is rice beer. Top ten?
Top Ten!!
Gee Snob, a folding bike? I feel for you. What's next, a recumbent?
Top ten wow
Jebus! Attacked by Ass Monkeys!
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Still, a place on the podium ain't so bad cuz....YAAAAAAAAAHHHHH...GAWDDAMN ASS MONKEYS...GET OFF ME ALREADY...HOLY SHIT STOP SWINGING FROMM MY CURTAINS!!!!
Anonymous 12:52pm,
Well, I'm riding the folding bike so I can easily take it on and off trains, so yes, obviously a recumbent is the next logical step.
--Wildcat Rock Machine
No comment.
Welcome to the fold.
And read it!
I did not attend the event in douche-berg.
Taking the pie plate off a folding bike because it's dorky is like removing a hair from your shit sandwich because it's unsanitary
This should be in the Constitution
Embracing one's inner dork is an important part of growing up.
And by "up", I mean "old".
Garbage barge!
You didn't get a Brompton did ya?
Top who cares. I lost.
Oh Snobbie, I love the salt on the rim. I like to tongue it off before I commence to drinking.
Nice podio Yarpo!
GO GO GADGET ASS MONKEYS!!!
If people were laughing at you as you rode, it must have been a "cough-NONE-OF-YOUR-BUSINESS-STRIDA" you were riding.
And you could have tried peeing while riding yer folder, dontcha know...
Good story, now go to sleep.
Have you seen the hand maid brooklyn cruiser in the moma gift shop?
Does the girl in the orange toque have no front teeth?
http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iqUERc0y8iQ/UTi0Rh_GfeI/AAAAAAAAqoQ/e5rIvsewMFo/s1600/line.jpg
You are officialy a yuppie. Congratulations.
Fortunately, your new domain has not yet been taken:
http://bikeyuppienyc.blogspot.com/
Go Go Gadget, Bike!
Our local folder rider is a self-righteous ass, or is it dork, who pretends to commute on his clown bike, when in fact, once he's off the train, his commute is about 900 feet.
Today, however, he deigned to exit one stop later than usual. He said he needed to get some mileage in.
Or, as I put it, "He needed to get a mile in".
By the way, his Dahon folder is as heavy as it is clownish. Maybe because it's festooned with a cup holder w/cup, several hipster cysts, a tool bag, a pump, and other assorted somewhat random crap.
There's a guy I like to call Mr. White who drives a foldable (also white with white tires) with a white fedora, jacket, and cigarette. Low and slow baby.
Say, with all this money being spent on bike shit, the least you could do is be sent a decent camera? Knog cam?
zjawiskowa strona, wejdź też na moją!
"It's oddly liberating when you break on through to the other side of dorkiness as I finally have."
Welcome, we have been waiting for you.
Does this mean that the folder is now an accessory to your primary form of transportation, the rail?
@Snob 12:55pm
This is incorrect. The next logical step is SPD sandals.
Snob,
Re: Folder
you're turning into an eminently sensible chap. Was it fatherhood or moving to Riverdale that boosted your oxytocin? (Maybe just leaving Brooklyn)
I'm proud of you.
I can't make out the text of that Rolling Rock can. Something about being hand filled from the glass lined cesspit of the old latrine?
Druk ulotek,
Perhaps *you* can explain to us the real meaning of "Polish drops"?
twice the practicality... with absolutely none of the cumbersome dignity
The story of my life.
Hugo Chavez rode a folding bike, and he's dead now. Just be careful.
Fuck you!
If I should ever become "an eminently sensible chap" someone please shoot me.
@Snob 12:55pm
You're right, I shouldn't have suggested that a recumbent would be next. I failed to consider the train ride and the portability of the folding bike, even though it must have been overwhelmingly embarrassing. I should supported you and written "at least it wasn't a recumbent".
So you laugh at the guy who says "if it's raining, ride the bus" but you wuss out 'cause it's gonna snow. Lame.
..should have..
Was standing on the other side of the glass last night Snobbie (thanks to the fine folks who organized the event, letting it get oversubscribed). Also feeling old and uncool, not because I rode folder, actually drove a minivan there (lob help me).
"There was a time where pretty much any bar in the East Village would serve you a Rolling Rock as long as you looked older than six..."
I was there.
Salted margarita, hair in the shit sandwich. What is this? A foodie blog now?
999 nspoedo, as if I would ever make the poedo.
"which I kind of like because it accentuates the cartooniness of the whole endeavor"
Or to be more precise, it increases the clown factor threefold.
I was one of those bike cycling messenger in SF in the late 80´s. Worked for a small outfit that only had 2 radios, if you got in late you were issued rolls of dimes so you could call back to the office for you next pick-up. Had one of those non SS Marins.
I was 6 years old in the East Village one time. Well, technically I was under it riding the subway to Coney Island, but still...
Hi-larious post.
How 'bout a Hillaryous post next time?
Inspector Fad Gadget.
Very funny post today wildcat clown-bike-riding machine. I like the hair in a shit sandwhich analogy, I may use that one. Any excuse to buy a new bike, however lame it may be, is worthwhile. Enjoy the foldy. So how many do you have in your stable now? By my count that's at least 6? Nice work, you must have an understanding or very medicated wife. I'm jealous, except for the fact that you now live in the suburbs and take metro-north regularly. All the Rolling Rot in the world can't make that any better.
If you would wear pants under that flasher jacket you wouldn't have to worry about getting stray parts caught in that contraption.
Funny, I didn't realize your gig last night was in a college bar in Madison Wisconsin. I thought it was supposted to be in Brooklyn. that must have been a long ride, especially on the folding bike.
Anon 2:06, you mean we were laughing at that guy? Damn, I thought that was the new rule. I've already blown enough money on bus fare that I could have bought a set of fenders by now.
I like that jacket. I was admiring it on the website, too, especially after I read this letter to Brooks:
"The jacket is wonderful. I so love the pockets on the top sides, they have such finesse especially when I'm cycling in the woods during hunting trips. When it rains no water ever gets in which makes it worth every penny. I recommend it to anyone who wants to stand out. One thing that is missing though is a wider assortment of colors. I would really love this jacket in deep lilac.Also, I was also wondering if there would be a chance to make a tour of the atelier to look at the craftsmen at work."
I guarantee the words hunting, lilac, and atelier seldom appear in the same letter.
Jimboner,
Choice Courier, Philadelphia, 1989-90, Trek 800 Antelope.
you call those genitals ?
ba dum
nail biter
So that Brooks jacket is 1000 British pounds. That's like one hundred thirty millionty U.S. dollars, or $1500 Canadian.
We are paying you too damn much.
glad to be here, classic post!
I always wanted a Montague paratrooper but the frame does not have enough real estate for my LED strips
I like that "NO MOPEDS" sign. We don't have stuff like that out here in the corn belt.
That one bike with the funky chain guard looks like one of babble's The Man's resto-rations.
NOMO PEDS
Fritz you're alright. I'd do something cool like that LED setup for my recumbent but that might just be too over the top.
tonarat 4708
HURRAY LONELY PERSON DINNER!!!!!
...what was taylor swift doing in the anteroom ???...
...dissed by a jack swiggin' hipster on a fixed gear...song lyrics to follow...
@anon 3:06
I was about to say his gig was at the (now defunct) Gold Dollar in Detroit circa 1998 - clothing and hairstyles matched almost perfectly - plus the rolling rock... if anything says mid to late 90s, it's rolling rock.
outside crowd looks more like Allston, MA circa 2003...
snob is traveling across space and time! must be that magical hipster funnel.
You did a lot of linking today...you must be exhausted.
bgw, I saw Taylor walking over toward Snobby, too. Where was TMZ?
And that is why Lob invented zip ties, Fritz
Thanks, Frilly, you managed to make the venerable salted rim margarita about 10-teen times sexier than it already is, in one sentence. I shall drink them with a greater lascivious joy in the future (but not with a burrito made in Brooklyn, oh HELL NO!).
SALUD!
He's right, that was dead sexy.
And RCT - you're right! It does look a bit like one of his...
Its the same principle as doing a shot of tequila. Y'know where you salt your hand, lick it off, do the shot, and then suck on a lime?
Not that I'm familiar with such things.
Recumbent Conspiracy you should see my lightstrip ideas for ze bent riders, they are beyond over the top but they will save your life...
Frilly but every time that thing folds up it the zip ties would get cut threby raining on my parade
Yes! Mory Frilly descriptions of consuming alcoholic beverages!
Snob, your descriptions were pretty good, too. Nice field trip.
rotzedio
the g**gle tells me this is almost german for "red cedar." I'm getting wood just thinking about it. I think this'll be my garage band's new name.
Folding bikes rule. What a megillah you're making, Snobby.
Awesome post Snob.
Snobby,
all you have to do to un-douchefy your folder is convert it to a fixie.
let me know if you need help.
and for lob's sake, you SUCK at picture taking... we three commenters should do a kickstarter to raise funds for a dumb-proof douche-proof camera to give you.
YOU SUCK AT LIFE.
SNOB is "on form" like Rasmussen is off epo
I'm all for getting him a new camera, but I think he's right. It's not just the gear... he needs his own camera-person.
The woman he tricked into marrying him seems to have a job already, since snobbers is doing childcare duty, so we'll need to find a hot photographer for him, too.
The man's already taken, though I expect Snob might prefer a camera person without a scranus, anyway. Our kickstarter will have to specify a female photographer to go with the douche-proof camera.
According to my dog, if you want to get to The Bronx by rail, you take the 3:10 to Yo Ma.
If you want to get to Julliard, you take the 3:10 to Yo Yo Ma.
I think Snob is posting those shity photos because he's trying to get some free samples from GoPro.
Can you guess where the Go Go Gadget bicycle folds out from?
The photos are quite good considering the Go Go Gadget camera ejects from the same gadget port.
Wildcat Cartier-Bresson Machine,
I've been known to compose a picture or two and sell 'em...to improve your shots study the work master photographers.
5 star post.
Tell the server you are alkaline-intolerant.
You don't care for alkaline, and you won't stand for it.
That front row cardigan guy is Vincent Gallo. Of course he's screaming trouble!
A B to go with the B
(A Brompton to go with the Brooks tan flasher jacket)
British indeed!
Rolling Rock? Seriously? That's like making love in a canoe. Fucking close to water.
dooperst 269
I recently bought an Aeropress, so I bought some of the " Blend of Disapproval" coffee. I'm expecting it to taste bitter to the uninitiated, with chocolate undertones for the initiated.
I hate you
forget the go pro. snobby needs g**gle glasses.
I may be moving to Brooklyn from suburban Detroit...
What type of bike should I get? I'm really tall and am close to getting a Rivendell, which is one of the few bikes that will fit me.
Thanks!
Still on a roll
You've arrived bikesnob. Nice to hear that you've finally enjoed new york on a clown bike. I wouldn't do it any other way.
Cheers
The Big-Legged lass on the front row in the flower dress.....mmmmmmmmmmmmmm
She looks...pouty...I like that...
Folded. Sexual origami. Usually instigated by a bi-sexual man. The art of folding. Did you smash that bird last night?" "No I folded her" "Oh I didn't realise you ...
Skyscrapersax,
Get the same bike you'd get any other place in the world, just don't let anybody take it.
--Wildcat Rock Machine
I heard a woodpecker on my ride in to work today.
Yozzer, Yozzer, Yozzer. Angelina is a super fox. Way more beautiful woman than that B list actress out west. This blog gets better and better, Babble, Frilly & now Angelina. Snobs Angels, who fight a never ending battle against crime via bike. Sigh!
what love got to do with it Lance?^$#%$@$%&#%$^ everything!
I heard a pecker at work today.
DB Mall 27: great website! Lots of good information for my family and me. Would try again!
Had a Moulton for a little while a long time ago. While not exactly a folding bike, it sure looked like one.
Title says it all!
C'mon..post already! I only have a minute left for lunch!!!
Was the front row girl in the flower dress not wearing any panties? She was just begging to be bent over on that pleather sofa. I could see it in her thighs.
You could sit a Rolling Rock on an ass of that magnitude. A mini-keg.
If it precicpitates, take the train?
I object. It's important that everyone knows you prefer bikes over carbon offsets. They need to know you're better than them. Don't hide in the back of the tram with a folding back. Bring your size 60cm fixie with wide reach mountain bike bars. Not unlock driving jacked up pickups. Asert your dominance as a better person. And enjoy the smell of your own farts.
I'm really/genuinely thinking of getting a folder. Sometimes I take the bus downtown [it's quite a ways, and the parking situation is BAD], and the bus'es bike rack only fits 2 bikes. So, a folder would be perfect, as I could take it onboard [for those couple of times a year I go downtown by bus, and the rack is full]; diminishing returns, I know...
You should have included photos of your folder [did I miss an earlier blog posting where you did this?].
The bike I was riding is made by the None Of Your Business Folding Bike Company, the model is the "Who Fucking Cares?," and the color is "Off-Dork." It rides surprisingly well for a clown bike, though the front wheel does want to pop up a bit on hard acceleration
So, you bought a Dahon Boardwalk, am I right?
Welcome to the communion of folder nerds. We're not all smug and self-satisfied. You must be thinking of the Bromptonites.
"Hard acceleration."
Damn, this blog just gets dirtier and dirtier.
Snob, you've changed. You used to mock those who rock/rub/palp/schluff filth prophylactics. Now you are one.
I am glad to be a visitor of this arrant website ! , thanks for this rare info ! .
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serious lolz! thanks for all that, thinking bout getting a folding bike. you convinced me to get over it and purchase one.
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