Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Chuck SMASH!

The commute yesterday morning sucked rocks. Literally. I made a mistake with my new bike. I hadn't ridden it very far before I tried to bike in to work. Turns out the rear tire had a slow leak. The previous owner would not have known this because he used it as an exercise bike. I found this out when I was three miles or so into the middle of nowhere and the tire went flat. It had been leaking and I finally hit a rock in such a way as to cause a pinch puncture. So I hopped off and repaired that bitch like a pro. I then inflated and loaded my gear and was about to take off when I noticed the tire was flat. So, I took all my gear off again, flipped the bike over again, removed the tire again, and located the second pinch puncture. This time I carefully went over the tire looking for any other leaks. I couldn't find any. So I repaired the second set of pinches and tried to go on my merry way.

I didn't get too far. I pulled over after noticing that I seemed to be low and found air escaping around the valve of the rear tube. This was a puncture I couldn't fix. I inflated the tire as much as possible and started racing down the path. I got to the bike store and saw that it wouldn't open for another hour and a half. Fuck. Well, I could try inflating the tire every 100 yards or so...after doing this twice the rage was reaching unlimited proportions. What the hell had I done to deserve this? All I wanted was a nice bike commute to clear my head before going back to work for my moron boss. Anyway, I then found out how fragile an aluminum tire pump is. Pretty damn fragile. So fragile in fact that it is not hard to damage one beyond use when one is furious. I think I disrupted a few golf games in the nearby country club while I was bellowing curses at that frakking pump. Thereafter, I had to walk. Which really didn't help my mood.

Upon reaching the second bike store on the trail, I discovered to my dismay that it wouldn't open until 11. It was ten after nine. I was supposed to be scoping an apartment at 830. This was the final straw. I completely let go of all my anger, unpacked my crap and schlepped to the metro. I got to work minutes before 10 and changed and went right to business without a shower. Ick.

The apartment was nice, but I am fairly sure they won't let my rent there due to the fact that the rent is half my monthly paycheck. Anyplace in the District is going to cost me that much or more. Since everyone discriminates against men in roommate arrangements on the DC Craigslist except for those too far out for me to live, I am pretty well fucked and shall be living on the street as of Sunday. How awesome is that? Not at all. Although, I may be able to practice my street fighting skills by avoiding the advances of amorous 'omeless...CHUCK SMASH!

UPDATE: I just got that apartment. Hooray for $2 per square foot. Man, I will be missing my fifty cents a square foot place. To go from ~1000 square feet to 426 plus closets, bathroom and kitchen will be tough, but I am tougher.

14 comments:

political_refugee said...

whats wrong with being homeless? My life revolves around not bowing down to desires of those political. In this case we are talking about owning stuff and having a bank account and the like. It is tiring at times but to hell with 'em...house, dog, kids...crap.

Chuckles said...

I wasn't saying that there was anything wrong with being homeless, just that I am too pretty for it. Or soemthing.

stephanerd said...

i'm going to be homeless. in, like, a year. i think i have about $200 in my savings account. what the hell kind of condo am i going to be able to afford?

Adorable Girlfriend said...

Too pretty for being homeless? Who are you to say that, STeve-the-ass Pirate's biotch? Oh wait, that would be Sean.

Chuckles said...

What is this thing of which you speak? This 'savings account'. I know not of what you are speaking.

Condo? You want to buy in New York? Stephanerd, baby, you need to start selling some serious amount of stuff to Playgirl for that kinda dough. Or become a high class escort.

You could talk riding crop shop with Smartypants, tho.

Adorable Girlfriend said...

Why don't you just be a manwhore like Chuck, Steph. He pimps it all night long.

stephanerd said...

i would never deign to suggest i could afford a condo in ny. i'm looking in nj, ba-by.

high class escort...that's a thought. but perhaps you're right ag. if i could take lessons from chuck, i'd totally be bankin' it. i'm not sure how far i can stretch playgirl-earned money, no matter how well they pay.

Chuckles said...

If everybody took lessons from me, they'd all be running to the bank.

Adorable Girlfriend said...

NJ isn't much better and the taxes are the highest of the tri-state.

stephanerd said...

hence...homelessness.

sigh.

i'm assuming at this point that it's an inevitability.

Adorable Girlfriend said...

So, you'll rent for a while longer. What's the rush to own anyway? There is a lot of expenses that come with it that so many people don't realize. Have your freedom too! If you want to move to another city because you've found a better job or you've fallen in love with a great guy, you can give 30 days and be out. It's much easier.

You can find some nice places to rent in NJ that are reasonably priced. Who wants to live in Queens or do boro anyway? And Manhattan, unless you make 200K a day, it's not worth it.

Chuckles said...

I met this guy who said that he was well enough set that he has decided to move into mid-town Manhatten and feels ok paying 2000 to 2500 per month. I think he works for Ogilvy and is pretty damn good at it, too.

And I get nothing for doing an excellent job.

Goddam fucking cobag.

Adorable Girlfriend said...

I better be quiet then if you hate him. Chuckie, you work for a non- profit asshole. This is price you will pay for such.

What you need to do is send the man a box of headless Barbies with random Ken heads mixed in the box. Mix it up too, send a few of the Barbie heads to the office, the dolls and Kens to home and if you have the address of his mother, etc. a little something like Playgirl could make Mom wonder.

Then you start sending weird letters to his home. Not real letters though. You know, cut out weird ads from the newspaper and just stick them in an envelope and mail them. No note, nothing.

To wrap it up, have 50lbs of limestone delivered to his house. Ask them to bill you and to dump it in the front lawn during mid-day. You tell them the contractors want to start immediately and this is what they want.

The man will become paranoid, quit his job and voila! Problem solved.

You're welcome. No charge.

Chuckles said...

No. I don't hate him. I am just jealous of his success which he has totally earned. It just bugs me that someone would want to throw the equivalent of my salary down the rent hole.