Bike Dirt?

​ “You must be working really hard on that bike of yours.” I turn to find an Afro in my face coming from a man with a black pick thrusting out of his carefully groomed ball of hair speaking.

“Well, not really, just trying things out,” I replied, swiveling back to my bike while touching both hands to the chain once again. The complex gears were second on my laundry list of things I wanted to learn about my bike.

“You’ve got grease all over,” he continued.

“Yeah, well, I usually get all dirty with anything I’m doing,” I laughed. It was no big deal for me. I had on my nicest work pants from the Limited and yet at the bottom of the extra-longs, a hem was missing and it was frayed from skidding on the ground. The pants rolled up at the moment,tank top showing my bright pink bra straps, he couldn’t tell that I usually appear to have a lack of interest in my appearance, or the lack of concern I have for my things. I kept working.

“You even got it on your back.”

I immediately stopped, saying, “What?” Not in my work clothes, I thought, please not all over my work clothes. At least not my nicest pants. I knew it was a risk coming to the bike shop right after work, but after the day I had, I needed the break. Not counting the fact that the brakes were not clamping to the back rim, leaving me relying on only one set of brakes. I didn’t think I could last with the uncertainty of a fully functioning bike to get back to my Chicago apartment three miles away.

“Yeah, it’s all over your back.” I turn over my shoulder looking to see where it is and then beeline it to the back of the shop. I don’t want to have to afford another set of dress pants. I left the man in the dust, uncertain if I’d see him again. Too concerned for my own outfit with well-greased hands, I took little notice of his black and red jersey and dark jeans. His brown, almost black eyes followed me as I walked directly to the counter, motioning my dirty hands, asking for the bathroom.

I had grease on my back for sure, but not as intensely as I had imagined. Directly above my armpit, where the shoulder blade cuts upward, a small tire mark had formed from my intricate brake work. As I investigated further in the mirror, glopping goop into my hands and turning on the sink, I found more on the front of my shoulder. Thinking I had cleaned my hands thoroughly, I leaned in to get a good look at my chin. How would it have gotten there? I asked myself, and yet, I understood. It’s me.

I went back, the man had disappeared, and I set to work on my bike once again, asking an acquaintance to watch my bag as I swung my bike right side up. It should work, I hoped. I carried it down the stairs, setting it down carefully as I hopped on the sporty saddle. I rode down to the corner, swerving off the sidewalk onto the side street. Not even bothering to look up, I pedaled quickly, watching my chain skid against the rear derailleur. Pressing hard, my tires stop, but the backside of the bike skidded to the left. Defeated, I headed back to the shop, looking up for the first time.

There he was, biking away on the dull-black frame of his freestyle bike. He stopped when he saw me. Getting a good look at his camera resting on his chest, I wondered where he might have gotten his Sony DSLR camera. He said, out of nowhere, “I guess I should give you my card.”

Where did that come from, I thought, but said enthusiastically, “Sure.”

Explaining himself he motioned to his camera, “I take pictures, and I would love to take pictures of you sometime for my portfolio.”

“You teach me how to use your camera and I’m in.” Besides bike maintenance, another life goal is to learn how to take good pictures. I had been thinking I would try to start freelancing photography, but didn't have much motivation for it, besides marketing for myself wouldn't work too well.

The conversation continued into when he does his photography and how he had something coming up this weekend for a line of dresses where women pose to promote the sales of dresses. “I also do artistic photos as well.” Finally turning back to my bike, we exchanged information, and who knows? Maybe that's my next step.

#bike #bikinginchicago #biking #maintenance #simplyexperiencing #livinglifetothefullest