The Even Greater Tokyo Region

A Good-looking Ride

I have a habit of naming material objects. Perhaps it is a residual habit from my forgotten naughtical past, perhaps it is because I always buy pieces of crap and by giving these objects names, it humanises them, gives them personality, and most importantly, sentimentality after they are gone. It began with my first car, a Nissan California. I called her "Kelly". My next car looked like the pope-mobile, so it became "Popey". I have a Nintendo DS, which I call "Dissy", a NeC (brand) laptop computer called "Neccie", I had a fake toy pot plant with solar-powered flapping leaves called "Flappy", and I had two fluffy cushions called "Fluff" and "Muffy".

I wonder where those two are now. Oh yeah, my brother has Fluff and Muff. Anyway, my point is, I give inanimate things names. I know, it's lame, but that's how I roll. So when I got my bike a few weeks ago, being my only form of transport, I knew it would need a name. It would need a good name. See, but these things name themselves. Luckily, the name was practically written on the side: Gazelle.

No, there aren't actually gazelles in Holland, but neither are the national animal, the lion. Holland is almost as bad as Japan who claim Panda's and Koala bears as their own.

So, my point is, meet Giselle. No, wrong picture! How did that get in there?That's better. I promise that did not name my bike after one of the world's hottest super models so I can say that I ride Giselle every day. Or that I love to feel the power of Giselle between my legs. Or that I sit on Giselle. Or that I 'ring Giselle's bell'. That would be immature.

Already, in our short time together, we have been through a lot. The other day I rode Giselle, and something felt odd. It felt like I was biking up-hill, which is of course ridiculous. There aren't any hills in Holland. Turns out, the brakes were jammed. I had bought Giselle from a 2nd hand bike shop, where apparently they use the "Microsoft Business Model". By which I mean, two weeks later, you need to take it back to the shop to be repaired. They told me to come back in 5 hours. So I had to kill a lot of time, walking around the town, aimlessly. It wasn't so bad, but I wasn't prepared to be quite so aimless. Five hours later, I went back and they told me they needed to fix it tomorrow. But I could bike home tonight and bring it back in the morning. So yes, I actually biked both ways up-hill.

I had to kill another four hours the next day, and I asked the guy how much it would cost. "Nothing", he said.

Oh, I felt like a douche for saying that thing about Microsoft...

According to the 'Board of Statistics That I Have Once Heard But Can't Remember Where', 1/3 of bikes in holland get stolen. I would need a good lock. Unfortunately, I figured that if someone really wanted to steal my bike, a good padlock won't stop them. I just wouldn't leave my bike in public places overnight, and thought I could save some money by buying a cheap lock at the market. Tip: if you are buying things from a tent, it should be edible.

The other day, I took Giselle to the hardware store. Yeah, the ideal place to take a date. I locked her up outside, and went inside to buy a few things. I finished, and went to unlock her. This is the last time I buy a cheap lock. This lock was so cheap, after two weeks the keyhole had disintegrated while the key was still fine. The bike was still locked.

This is a good example of my type of luck: With my bike locked-up with a broken keyhole, I was already at a hardware store! I simply went to the help-desk, and the lady gladly got out a circular saw and sawed through the chain, sparks flying, no questions asked! I could have been using her to steal a bike. I then went back into the hardware store to buy an expensive chain, in stylish bulldozer-yellow.

So, with fixed brakes and a fancy new lock, I decided to give Giselle a make-over. Yeah, Giselle got pimped. Paint was too expensive, so I used coloured insulation tape (the best type of tape after duct). Although that ran out pretty quickly. So it wasn't a complete makeover, but I gave her some fancy racing stripes. A red-hot yellow and flame! And the best accessory is, as always a fancy bag. Here she is, modeling in my bedroom.

Note from the author: I apologise, for this is the steamiest piece I have ever written, and I think you'll agree that I should probably avoid writing romance. Or, in any way, shape or form, avoid being involved in romance. A view from the rear.