Today I took my car in for brake work. It needed to be done; I knew there was a problem more than just new pads. I had thought maybe air in the lines and a flushing was in order. It was worse than that. No matter, brakes are brakes and eventually they all break.
I waited for two hours before they mercyfully drove me home. This was 5 o'clock. They did not have a return ride because of the late hour. Thus, I went home on a one way ticket.
The call that my car was finished didn't come in until 7:30. The place closes at 8. I had thirty minutes to get my ass to the mechanic. So I hopped on my bicycle and put the pedals to the street.
This town requires bikes to have a headlight at night. I couldn't find a working flashlight. This town has been nailing bikes to get cash. Thus I hoped to avoid cops at all cost. Think I'm paranoid? Think again. A few months ago I was issued a ticket for running a red light on my bike. I was on a pedestrian and bicycle only street, and the intersection I crossed was a one way street.
The most salient thing for this ride is having the proper soundtrack. I was riding hard. I was riding at night dressed in black with no lights and trying to avoid cops, and going down a 6 lane boulevard at times. Thus Motorhead it would be.
As I closed in on the main drag I saw a cop car parked. Would I get nicked? No movement. Thank God. I passed by the local porn shop. Lemmy was singing Fast and Loose. Was this fate? Later I passed by a girl on her cellphone. She looked like a "do" from Viceland. Lemmy was singing Jailbait. "Love that young stuff".
Getting close my lungs were burning. The cold October air was like daggers in my chest. Then Lemmy said "The chase is better than the catch". Time was running low. I dug in. Up the last hill I felt like Floyd Landis jacked up on 'roids in the Tour de France.
I made it just in time. I got my wheels back and loaded my bike into the trunk. I drove off the lot with The Hammer taking me home. Tonight there was no finer chase music than Motorhead.