Last week I was bored out of my partial living mind. Being a bike lover as I am, I found myself in my garage. Surrounded by bikes; my broken mountain bike, a few others I didn’t care about and my Low Rider, it was my favorite of them all. I had spent the past year working on it; sanding, priming, painting and rebuilding.

I sat down on the seat, pushed out of the garage and onto my driveway, and then started to pedal. My mind was zoned out, and I didn’t really know where I was going. I would take a turn ever other chance I got not knowing where I was or where I was headed. The sun lowered, the street got darker, and quieter.

I managed to place my whereabouts, after a few minutes of panic and disfiguration, I figured out where I needed to go. I made it home just in time for dinner. Although I didn’t get off scott free, I was too late for setting the table.