Wednesday, January 13, 2016

The Cat 6 Chronicles Volume XXIX: The Spearch for Sock

After a long day there's no better release than hopping on a Citi Bike and firing off a few metaphorical shots in the form of some Cat 6 Manhattan Bridge sprint intervals, so yesterday evening that's just what I endeavored to do:


The streets were pretty quiet on the outskirts of Dumbo, or Vinegar Hill, or whatever you want to call it, and I approached the docking station like a dueling cowboy, which is to say my hands hovered over a pair of imaginary six guns and I walked with my legs slightly apart as though experiencing pain and swelling in the "pants yabbies."


(Hurty Nurts, fastest gun and achiest crotch in the west.)

The station was chock full of azure three-speeds.  I stood before it like a horse thief at a hitching post, contemplating which steed I'd choose to spirit me over the county line.  But as I scanned, I noticed something in amongst the bikes--a lone saddle bag:


Had it been left there by a fellow cowboy?  The bag's mouth hung salaciously agape, like the lips of the painted ladies of the old west, and inside I could see the White Apple that so many have killed and died for:


"Wow, that sucks," I thought to myself.  A pannier and a laptop left behind at a Citi Bike docking station?  That could just as easily have been me.  I didn't want to violate the owner's privacy, but I figured the bag might contain some sort of identifying information that would allow me to return it, and so I took a deep breath, plunged into it elbows-deep, and proceeded to rummage.

The computer, I'm sorry to say, was seriously fucked up:


Though fortunately the sardines appeared to be unscathed:


At this point I realized I would make the world's shittiest detective, because my brain began to run wild with all the scenarios that might result in a forsaken Ortlieb bag containing a smashed laptop and a tin of sardines.  Was the owner a secret agent?  Had he or she fallen victim to some sort of Citi Bike docking mishap?  Should I take the bag with me and attempt to find the owner?  Or was I at that very moment lying in the sights of a sniper poised on the rooftop of a luxury condo building and about to fall victim to some international cabal of sardine-smuggling supervillains?

Then, as I was frantically scrubbing my fingerprints from the laptop with a baby wipe before fleeing into the night, it occurred to me that Red Beard Bikes was right nearby:


This, as you might recall, is the very shop that set me up with the Brompton I've been "testing" for like the past year and never intend to return.  It further occurred to me that someone who lost a bike bag probably rides a bike, and if they lost a bike bag near a bike shop they might return to that bike shop in search of it.  So off to Red Beard I went.

I grabbed the handle and was about to open the door when I froze in terror.  Perhaps the bag was merely bait and this was all a trap engineered by Brompton in order to get their bike back!  After all, it's obvious to anybody with half a brain that I am a person of unassailable character, so it would make sense that they'd attempt to entrap me by inducing me to perform a mitzvah.

Nevertheless, I steeled myself and entered the shop, and it turns out the owner of the lost bag is in fact a customer.  I'm sure he won't be too pleased by the condition of his laptop, but hopefully at least the data is salvageable, and I'm confident he will one day replace it with a new one and use it to type tales of my greatness.

There's also a moral here, and it is two-fold:

1) This is why we need bike shops.  Not only do they sell stuff, but they are also vital nodes in the cycling community.  What would I have done without a bike shop, attached the bag to an Amazon drone?

B) Cyclists are better than everyone, because we look out for each other.

It's true.  In fact here's another anecdote to bolster this point.  The other day while on a ride I stopped to take a call on my portable cellular telephone.  As I ended my call, a young man approached me purposefully, wearing an intent expression and carrying a small box.  I couldn't help tensing up a bit, as I'd wager anybody would when being approached by a stranger with a box.  After all, it might contain sardines!



I couldn't have been more wrong.  You know what was in the box?  Pedals.  A pair of brand new clipless pedals.  The guy was a cyclist who'd recently tried clipless pedals and didn't like them, so when he saw me out the window he recognized me for the serious expert cyclist that I am and decided he'd offer them to me for free.

See, how touching is that?  (The answer is that it's extremely touching.)  And that's what I'm talking about when I say that we're better than everybody--or he is, anyway.  I'm still a judgmental asshole who automatically assumes the worst of strangers carrying small boxes.

(In case you're wondering, I declined the pedals, but we did split a tin of sardines.)

Anyway, after dropping the bag off at Red Beard and discharging my responsibilities I grabbed a Citi Bike and hit the Manhattan Bridge:


Thanks to the mishigas with the bag I'd missed the peak Cat 6 hour, and so I was forced to enjoy the scenery.  On my right the skyline twinkled:


While on my left the subway roared by:


I was also joined for a time by an affable fellow who recognized me as the idiot who takes pictures while riding Citi Bikes across the Manhattan Bridge and then posts them on the Internet, and we chatted for a bit before going our separate ways.

I then docked the bike in Manhattan:


Where I whipped out my MetroCard and embarked on the next leg of my multimodal adventure.

Now let's move onto Australia, the country that hates bikes:




Where the latest news is that a motorcycle cop in Sydney pushed someone off his bike:


A cyclist was injured this morning when he crashed after a motorcycle policeman pushed him from his bike.

The incident occurred at the corner of College Street and Park Street in Sydney.

Eyewitness accounts describe the police officer riding alongside the bike rider, switching on his siren and flashing lights, and then pushing the shoulder of the rider.

The rider then crashed to the road in the intersection. Traffic was held up for some time.

Oh, no!  That's terrible about the traffic!  I really hope those poor motorists didn't have to sit in their cars too long!

Witnesses said the policeman told them that he ”barely touched his shoulder”.

No shit, asshole.  That's how bikes work.

Tap a driver's car to keep them from merging into you and they act like you rubbed your genitals on their kid.  Meanwhile, push a cyclist off his bike and it's, "I barely touched him!"

You can add this to your list of reasons to visit Sydney:


Just don't forget your helmet and your ID.

Also, you might want to ride a recumbent so the cops can't push you over.

Lastly, here's an email I received about an exciting new chamois:



Many will agree that the 2008 Beijing Olympics saw the beginning of the UK’s love affair with cycling as Bradley Wiggins, Sir Chris Hoy and Victoria Pendleton cycled to success, gaining sport celebrity status.

London 2012 then saw the Brownlee brothers bring Triathlon to prominence while Chris Froome continued to do Great Britain proud in the Tour de France.

Since then, continued success from these British superstars has seen men and women don the lycra and take to the streets in an attempt to emulate their new fitness heroes.

While there is no doubt that such a revolution can only improve the health of the nation, there is a continued issue for those who take it to the next level.

Male impotency, saddle sores and perineal numbness are all unfortunate side effects of this newly-popular national sport, with the only comfort currently coming from polyurethane (PU) foam-based Chamois pads stitched or glued into cycling shorts.

Yeah, right.

That last paragraph is a dirty chamois full of misinformation.

104 comments:

Dorothy RabinoBOT said...

PODIUM!

Anti-Ted K Quote of the Day: "Tens of thousands who could never afford to own, feed and stable a horse, had by this bright invention enjoyed the swiftness of motion which is perhaps the most fascinating feature of material life." ~ Frances Willard, How I Learned to Ride the Bicycle

Unknown said...

100. FIRST PRINCIPLE. If a SMALL change is made that affects a long-term historical trend, then the effect of that change will almost always be transitory—the trend will soon revert to its original state. (Example: A reform movement designed to clean up political corruption in a society rarely has more than a short-term effect; sooner or later the reformers relax and corruption creeps back in. The level of political corruption in a given society tends to remain constant, or to change only slowly with the evolution of the society. Normally, a political cleanup will be permanent only if accompanied by widespread social changes; a SMALL change in the society won’t be enough.) If a small change in a long-term historical trend appears to be permanent, it is only because the change acts in the direction in which the trend is already moving, so that the trend is not altered by only pushed a step ahead.

Anonymous said...

podaition yo

Atherton said...

Podio!

Unknown said...

[S]ome of our statements may be flatly false.
-- Ted K

Jasper said...

Early doors

Atherton said...

Podio!

streepo said...

scranus

streepo said...

double scranus

Southold Police Chief Martin Flatley said...

TedK, maybe you can whisper more of those sweet nothings in my ear. love you.

Grump said...

Instead of saying "perineal numbness", why didn't he just use the American term..."Numb Nuts"?

N/A said...

The guy with the pedals was touching you? Is that what you're telling us?

Anonymous said...

Turd-teenth!

N/A said...

That's pretty astute of the scranal-pad marketers to recognize that England is just now recognizing the sport of bikeen. I want to get in on this fresh new market. I wonder if they would be receptive to a... get this... leather saddle. I know, I know. Wild, right? It'll blow their minds that a bike can be ridden comfortably without propping up your pants yabbies with a foam sponge.

DB said...

Were they Speedplay pedals?
I gave away a pair of those myself.

Bryan said...

In lieu of a bike shop, you could have taken it to the nearest police station, though that really may not have been doing the owner any favors in his hopes of recovering his/her property. You done good, laddie. You deserve some free sardines.

Anonymous said...

That mangled MacBook had a sticker on it that says "WWSMD." Being the type whose mind immediately goes to "AHYSMB" for inspiration, I thought it must mean Who Would Suck My Dxxx? To validate my theory, I googled WWSMD. Best that the google came back with was "What Would a Saintly Mother Do." Upon further reflection, I realized it must mean Why Would Snob Make Do.

JuanOffhue said...

What Would Sado Masochists Do, obviously.

wle said...

topping twentying!!
wle

Roille Figners said...

Steve Martin?
Sallie Mae? (go bankrupt, is the answer)
Steve Miller?

Anonymous said...

good moment to remind everyone to bring a six pack of beer to your local bike shop every once in a while. nope, i don't work at a bike shop.

Cranky Man said...

I would never accept anything from a street pedaler.

bad boy of the north said...

so,snob,for doing your good deed,you may perhaps get to be the sole winner of a certain powerball game.when ya do,don't forget the little people.

P. Bateman said...

how fitting that Bike SNOB should turn his nose up at FREE pedulls.

"here are free pedalls mister"

"Ultegra? ninja please! i'm a DA only type of guy. thats why they call me Detective Asshole and i'm pretty busy finding the owner of these sardines so SOD OFF fuck-o"

pretty sure that's how it went.

JLRB said...

find a rivet and get on it

JLRB said...

I think the free pedals offer was the universe's proposed compensation to Snob for: (1) pumping up strange Fred's tires; (2) returning the sardines instead of making a tasty Caesar Salad ; and (3) entertaining and enlightening the world for free-ish.

That was it - your one shot and you blew it.

Serial Retrogrouch said...

WWSMD - What Would a Sado-Masochist Do?

I guess s/he would have taken the laptop, investigated the contents, found personal information and posted it everywhere as a pretext to finding the owner.

Anonymous said...

That's some pretty good Pulitzer worthy prose today snobby

dop said...

Willy Wonka Saved My Day

dop said...

Wendell Wilkie Served Mogen David

N/A said...

When Will Sardines March Downtown?

Vernal Magina said...

Neat post today!

lazarus said...

Wicked Woody Since My Demise

N/A said...

Wine Will Save My Day!

Anonymous said...

Outdoor lovers? as in exhibitionists?

N/A said...

Woodrow Wilson Sculpted Monkey Dicks.




P. Bateman said...

you shut the f%$! up about woodrow wilson. damn american hero and i know he did not have any affinity for monkey dicks. check your facts fool.

P. Bateman said...

Why Would Someone Masturbate Daily

because it feels nice.

P. Bateman said...

Why Would Someone Masticate Daily

'cause they are hungry or bad at blowjobs

Anonymous said...

What Would Steve Majors Do


the Six Million dollar Man.

Anonymous said...

Walter White Still Make Drugs

Daniel said...

What Would Snobs Mom Do?

Freddy Murcks said...

Today's post made me tear up a bit. Cyclists really are the best people. Unless they're "serious" roadies or tri-weenies, then chances are good that they're assholes.

dnk said...

Excellent post today Snob. I wish interesting shit like that would happen to me on a bike.

I open a tin of sardines in your honor.

Pedantic Fuckface said...

Not to stomp on your pants yabbies (figuratively, of course), JLRB, but a Caesar salad includes anchovies and not sardines. I realize that they are both types of small, oily fish, but aside from that they could not be more different.

N/A said...

Pedantic: They could be more different, say, if one of them were a hippopotamus.

We can all be pedantic!

P. Bateman said...

i know we're not allowed nutritional advice here...

but what you want to do with those sardines is get yourself a baguette and some pesto and maybe some tomato and a bit of arugula or other fun green lettuce and make yourself a little stinky healthy sandwich.

P. Bateman said...

they recently announced that manatees are no longer endangered so you could also substitute fresh manatee for the sardines.

but you'll need a bike/boat contraption and even then not sure you'd have the prop speed necessary to cut their tough skin. so maybe a bike/blender will need to be on board as well.

Pedantic Fuckface said...

N/A @1:32 - Okay. I deserved that.

dop said...

Wedgie-Wedgie-Scranus-Moose-Dildo

DB said...

Goodbye Buffalo and Watertown. Enjoy the snow. See you in a month.

Unknown said...

vsk said ...

My Karma told me ...
By the time I got out of the bike shop after doing my good deed ... all the CitiBikes would be gone.

Here at 40th + 5th, all the blue bikes are there at 5:30 and gone by 6pm.
Necessitating my walk to Pershing Square at Grand Central.

vsk

Unknown said...

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1729669/plotsummary?ref_=tt_ov_pl

McFly said...

Wet Women Saturate My Dangler's

Anonymous said...

Steve McQueen, Sock Monkey, Spider Man. Super Man............

N/A said...

P. Bateman: It is Wednesday, so I believe that the "fun" green lettuce is expected.

Roille Figners said...

Wistfully Watching Sucky Modern Dance

What's With Sardines, Mac, Dock?

Wshit, Wi Sforgot My Dfuckingpannier

Anonymous said...

Wild Whores Stole My Dollars

CommieCanuck said...

Sure Australia hates bikes, they cause all that Neil Perry numbness.

Anonymous said...

It's not chamois if it's made from polyurethane.

CommieCanuck said...

Indeed, true French Chamois is made only of the finest bovine scranus, which is removed before processing the beef to les Hot Dogues.

Anonymous said...

Willful Wookie Seeks Myopian Doll

Anonymous said...

Woot! Woot! Sardines Most Delicious

McFly said...

I just now received a 1 1/2" x 9" x 22" chunk of 90A durometer(red) polyurethane here at the old workplace. We make strippers for die's out of it. Not what you want caressing your scranus.

Freddy Murcks said...

Peta Todd is my British fitness hero. Taking up with her is very unlikely to cause male impotency, saddle sores, or perineal numbness, but it might result in some chafing. Perhaps we should inquire of the Manx Missile himself.

JB said...

90A is pretty soft, if I remember my skateboard wheel designations.

Pedantic Fuckface said...

CC - I am sure that you are endeavoring to make a scranular joke, but true French chamois comes from the skin of a goat. The chamois goat to be exact.

Dooth said...

Well, guess what I had for lunch?
That's right...
Sardines!
But, without the eyes.
That would be gross.

Mishigas said...

And that's the only thing I need. I don't need this or this. Just this Ortlieb bag... And this sardine tin. The Ortlieb bag, this sardine tin and that's all I need... And this laptop. The Ortlieb bag, this sardine tin and this laptop, and that's all I need. I don't need one other thing, not one. Well what are you looking at? What do you think I'm some kind of a jerk or something!

Anonymous said...

We Want Sackloads (of) Mogen David

Joe said...

I stopped reading at "Fitness heroes"

Blog Drafter said...

P. Bateman:

I like my manatee fricaséed, yum. I only have a little Whaler with a 40 but it runs 'em over just fine.

herzogone said...

While the suggestions have been entertaining, based on the style I'm pretty sure that sticker is "What Would Sandi Metz Do", referring to Sandi Metz the software developer, author, and cyclist.

Ze Cherman said...

So the world's second fattest nation (OECD ranking 2014) hates bikes. Are we surprised?

Bob Patterson said...

The nut snuggler saddle was bad enough, but an ass crack support saddle? I guess that there people out there with glutius maximus muscle atrophy that could benefit from this. But it seems top be a dubious business model.

dop said...

How do you make Mogen David Wine?

Squeeze his grapes.

P. Bateman said...

Well-hung
Williamsburg-type
Seeks
Mom-type
with
D cups

P. Bateman said...

more fun than haiku
comments letter puzzle game
peta todd please fuck me

Anonymous said...

Why Wouldn't Someone Masturbate Daily

P. Bateman said...

@anon - that right there IS the right question to be asking. my bad earlier.

lou reed said...

when will sally make donuts?

cuz sally can't dance no more

P. Bateman said...

Why
Wouldnt
Specialized
Market
to
Dumb-freds?

figure at least one should be more bikey and less 'batey.

Anonymous said...

Well Well, She May Do

Pathetic Old Cyclist said...

Willie Wet Stogies in Monica's Dupa.

dop said...

Whenever Wheelman

Strike out for the hills beyond

Many are Doomed


(A cycling haiku)

Phatty Boombalatty said...

Maybe veg means something different in the queens english, but hiding out in that airide kickstarter page is this gem:

Meaning the Airide Chamois Pad helps prevent Impotency in men, Numbness and Saddle sores as the structure reduces the pressure put on the body, in particular the perineal region (Groin/Meat and 2 Veg) whilst cycling.

The scranus is now the 2 Veg?

Anonymous said...

Lost laptop, you could have checked the contents on it, better than 50% chance you would find bare naked ladies.

In France a Hot Dog is called La Hot Dong.

a pimple on the ass of the universe said...

just a dirty chamoix on the bibshorts of life

Dooth said...

Pedal pusher looks out window
Runs down to Wildcat
"No thanks"

dop said...

How can a chamois cure erectile dysfunction?

Heros wear helmets said...

The groupthink in Australia is that people who ride bicycles without helmets give real cyclists a bad name and don't deserve to ride bicycles. So the guy who was smashed by the motorcycle cop basically had it coming.

(Just wait for the ID laws - then motorcycle cops will be able to tackle anyone on a bicycle to the ground on the suspicion they don't have ID - a whole new class of criminals who basically have it coming - fucking cyclists deserve it anyway, if they had money they'd be driving cars like normal people).

Aardvark said...

If Mr Motoplod did such a thing, you'd be inclined to return the favour. He wouldn't be chasing you in a hurry.

NB: they only hate cyclists in Sinney, Australia. Here in the Athens of the South, we are beloved, oyez.

BamaPhred said...

dop, I dunno, have to go ask the sheepshaggers.

Where's your fucking rego said...

@Aardvark, yep Melbourne loves its cyclists.

http://www.theage.com.au/victoria/riders-left-reeling-by-bike-fine-increase-20100526-we7e.html

Sheesh.

Many cities love their cyclists and go out of their way to promote cycling and to make cycling safe. The Athens of the South is not one of these cities. The Melbournians's may hate their cyclists less than Sinney siders, but none the less they still hate them.

Aardvark said...

@Where's your f'n rego, you can blame that "price rise" on the derr-Fred Hell Riders who rode down the old bloke on Beach Road, thx knobs.

I'll admit to a degree of contention at times upon the carriageways, but we progress, we do, oyez.

McFly said...

Wrecks Will Smash My Device

dop said...

The Metatron?

dop said...

Oh fuck it he's dead. Give him his ten minutes

JLRB said...

let me lead the final leg of the sprint

wishiwasmerckx said...

...and 100th!

forrest scranus said...

My momma said, 'Scranus is, as scranus does'

Anonymous said...

I'm not going to lie. I could use some links for SEO purposes. On the bright side, you'll be helping save countless souls from months if not years of torment and poverty. Thanks.

Even Bigger Pedantic Fuckface said...

Pedantic Fuckface - If a chamois is a goat, then what is a chamois goat? You're saying "goat goat." Is that anything like an SAT test?

Regular guy said...

I did the "good deed" of retrieving an I-phone from the middle of a street on my ride home once. Never again will I do so. The hapless and harried owner must have left it on top of their car before dashing off homeward. The screen was shattered, and being January in Minnesota, I decided to ride home before investigating further. Not fifteen minutes after getting home a pair of the city's finest were at my door demanding the precious phone (apparently they are standing by at the ready to do this sort of thing). Feeling both guilty and violated at the same time, I sheepishly explained myself, handed them the phone and went inside to try and recover any sense of dignity and esteem I could gather up.

I vowed to never pick up a lost piece of technology again. In fact, I might just kick it under the wheels of passing traffic.