The flowers are blooming, the birds are singing, the grass needs mowing, and a whole new crop of bike douches have found their way to the 1502. String a couple of days of reasonable weather together and the inside of the train turns into an unmanageable snarl of aluminum tubing, chain, rubber, carbon fiber, and a moose knuckle or two.
Certainly, there is room for one more.
Our usual peloton from Team Douche isn’t going to like it. So many brand new bikes straight off the showroom floor, freshly oiled chain and gears, not a speck of dirt or wear, fancy bike shoes that still smell like Big-5 Sports–immaculate machines in the hands of people who will one day wonder what the hell they were thinking when they bought this thing.
These newcomers have a thing or two to learn about bringing a bike onto the train. For one, they’re not dressed appropriately. Rolled up jeans? Cargo shorts? Come on, you need sponsors! Secondly, there isn’t nearly enough discussion about last weekend’s race, the new gearset they’ll use in their hill climb this afternoon, or the angle of the thingie where the forks meet the handlebars.
We’re all familiar with the question: “Do these pants make my butt look big?” No, the pants don’t make your butt look big, but that bike makes you look like a douche bag.