Now all I need is the stuffed dog for the basket

I am the very proud owner of a very pink bike.

For the past week I’ve spent a lot of time on the phone with a bike guy detailing all the accessories I want,

“Do you have handlebar flowers?”

“No I wish, but I have all sorts of bells and baskets.”

Does he really wish? All week I have a funny picture in my head of a burly bike guy who wishes he had handlebar flowers for me.

My boyfriend and I show up at the shop. I’m not far off in my estimations. The burly bike guy is an ex-marine. He offers me a selection of streamers. He tells me that whatever accessories I want he can order. He picks out some pink-flower nozzles for my tires. This guy has good taste.

My boyfriend has a pickup truck and I imagine we’ll just toss the bike in the back. I haven’t given it too much thought. We stop at Home Depot on the way to buy some tie-down straps. He tells me,

“We’re gonna stand your bike up in the back like a motorcycle.”

Wow. This just got serious.

Three hours of traffic and several bathroom stops (for me) later, we drive away with a very pink bike in the back of a very manly truck. I clutch my pink bike basket and thank my boyfriend over and over again. He tells me,

“It’s nothing. I’m just happy to haul something with my truck.”

He notices me clinging to my bike basket and tells me,

“Now you’ll understand when I’m hugging my truck tires.”

Very important cargo

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