I love you Melvina

I bought a bike the other day to aid in my most recent life goal, which is to complete a triathlon at some point prior to untimely death. I thought a good first step would be owning a bike. Actually, that was the second step, the first step was being able to run 5km without keeling over. But I don't call it the first step because I didn't really start thinking about the triathlon until step one was already complete and I was already running double that distance and only vaguely considering the fact that I was likely going to drop dead in the middle of the forest, which would really irritate all the other path users.

It's good to note that the thought of inconveniencing others is a good motivator to keep running and not die. Well, it is for me, it might not be for you, especially if you happen to be a jerk. I'm not sure what you should use to motivate your not dying if you're a jerk. Maybe the thought that if you did drop dead, or, I guess, close to death, you'd give the opportunity for some dogooder to feel good about themselves for saving your life despite you swearing at them the whole time. I'm assuming you would swear at them, but I'm not a jerk, so I don't know, maybe you would bite them instead. Well, at least, I don't think I'm a jerk, but I guess no one really does, which is why sometimes I like to just tell people they're a jerk. Now that I think about it, that's probably one of the things that makes me a jerk. Don't worry, I'll tell myself later, when I'm not busy thinking about how much I love my new bike.

This new love began from the moment I started my test ride. It was like in the movie Avatar. But with a bike instead of a dragonesque creature with a name I can't remember and don't care to google. I've named her Melvina. She was originally named Melvin before I realized she'd really rather be a girl bike. I do not judge. Gender choices aside, I knew I could not live without her and bought her, along with a massive locking system to prevent the severe dehydration that would result from our ever being separated.

Part of the bike buying plan was that I would ride it to work. This plan was further supported by the massive drop in available budget incurred buying Melvina, effectively cutting out my TTC funds. It's okay, because the public transportation situation was starting to bug me. One day, I was on the bus and a rider started batting at my shopping bag. That's right, batting, like a kitty-cat would. Then her stared straight at me. Like a kitty-cat. Nothing else about him said kitty-cat, which made the entire interaction just scream "psychokiller". Perhaps psychokiller is an exaggeration. But I don't think so. I also think that the Kitty-cat Killer has a good ring to it, although one would assume they kill cats. That would probably be confusing, so I take back my previous statement.