Yes, another post about biking to work. What can I tell you? You’ll hear more about my puppy and dead father, by and by.
So, I get to work this morning. I shower. I dress. I break my lock… like an idiot… but enough of that. Later, I’m sitting at my desk when people start talking about all the bikes that are stacking up. When I first started riding my bike in, I’d park it inside, in a cubby alongside the only other bike. Now, there are four bikes in that little cubby and it’s getting crowded!
We took a quick inventory of who rides. There are four of us… but two of them can’t understand why we need to bring backpacks and have lockers and… hold on… They don’t shower.
They ride to work (four miles and 10 miles) and don’t shower, don’t change; they just work in their sweaty clothes.
Now, listen, I’m not stickler for hygiene. Hell, I’ve spent many a drunken weekend in the same clothes until I can appreciate my own, natural perfume – but hey! After riding 10 miles, you should really consider bathing!
And I don’t know what was worse. The fact that they don’t or the amount of people in the conversation who suggested I didn’t need to…