Coffee Time

As summer winds down, life at the bike shop gets wierd. Managers get tense as profits fall, staff gets restless as the shop stays empty regardless of the sunny weather. Most of the people who make it through the doors these days are either "just looking" or in for a tube and some energy gels. Neko Case is singing about stars again. Clouds are hanging around too long in the morning. Solomon thinks Summer is dying. I need to get to the beach this summer before it's dead.

Watched some poor woman case it on her motorcycle in front of the shop yesterday. Big, bright red jeep is stopped at a light, she's not paying too much attention, careens toward the jeep and turns to see it, smacks on the brakes at the last minute (which sends her right hand off the bar), she executes a frantic rodeo impression for a split second and finally gets bucked to the ground. Fortunately this all happens at about 20 mph, so she doesn't look too bad, but is a living example of why you shouldn't ride your motorcycle in a t-shirt, velour sweatpants, Teva sandals and no gloves... Fire is on scene immediately and has her on a long backboard before you can say "where's AMR?" Ambulance arrives a solid 20 minutes later. A good natured homeless guy tries to direct traffic on Sandy around the giant Portland Fire rig, but the police shoo him away at his most glorious citizen-in-charge moment.

Dick Speers' back in the mother country and Tuckerman's headed back on Saturday, so we had a little send-off last night. All was good untill he found my phone and began calling everyone in alphabetical order. Including my Dad. At 1 in the morning. Lucky for Tuckerman he didn't pick up.

Not a single person has walked into the shop in the last 2 hours and 13 minutes. I wonder what Ping-Pong's doing right now?

DT