Another Clown in the Circus

It seems that I learn things the hard way sometimes. Yesterday, the sunny morning turned into a rainy afternoon, and when four o'clock hit and it was time for me to go home, it started raining. And when it rains, it pours. I was soaking wet when I got home. My clothes were wet, down to every last fiber, and my hair looked fresh out of the shower. But instead of smelling like coconut scented body scrub and Dove shampoo, I smelled like a tired and wet bunny.

Today, I should have checked the weather forecast first thing in the morning. Instead, I simply looked out the window, saw sunshine, and didn't bother to think that it might start raining later in the day.

History repeats itself. Four o'clock came, and so did the rain. Luckily, it wasn't raining as hard as yesterday. However, all of the smokers on wheels and slow cyclists decided to come out to play, and make my trek home a slow and painful one. It's no fun arguing with yourself over which is better: being stuck behind the smoking man, or the woman that smells too strongly of perfume. However, my biggest annoyance was the girl on the small bicycle. No, not a girl, but the girl on the small bicycle. I used to see her regularly, but hadn't seen her in a while, and today she apparently decided to make a special appearance.

I can't decide if it's her bike or her inability to cycle in a straight line that bothers me the most. First of all, her bicycle looks something like this:



Many people here own bikes like those, and I don't understand how they can ride them comfortably. I know that some of them conveniently fold, but beyond that... Someone, please enlighten me. Personally, I'm reminded of the Simpson's episode when Homer goes to clown school and must master riding an impossibly small bicycle through a loop. Well, instead of passing through loops, this girl oscillates along narrow sidewalks, and makes it impossible for people to pass her. It makes for an annoying situation on a regular day, and it makes for a frustrating situation when all I want to do is zoom by and get to the shelter of my apartment.

Looking at her cycle reminds me of being entertained by a clown. It makes me laugh, but at the same time, it makes me uncomfortable. I chuckle when I spot her, and it kinda makes my day, but at the same time, I want her to go away. [Tough crowd, I know.] Today, it took four intersections for us to part ways.

When I finally got home, I looked at myself in the mirror. My scarf was wrapped around my head, but it didn't prevent my hair from getting wet. The front side of my pants was wet, while the backside was completely dry. My eyeliner was a faint smudge underneath my eyes, and my eyebrows were wet, flat against my face.

I'm just another clown in the circus.