Sunday, February 24, 2008


As I rolled up to the gas station across from Mortimer's in Uptown to get some cash, I reached into my bag to grab my lock, but found only the cable. Panic struck as I visualized the pad lock sitting on my kitchen table since I'd had it in a different bag earlier in the day. Equally unenthusiastic about the prospects of leaning my new Surly inside the smoking garden of the bar or riding another ten mile roundtrip, further delaying the feeding of the boozehole and playing foosball; I withdrew my cash and began scoping out their meager selection of "automobile type supplies."
This is what I settled on:

It did what it needed to do for a few hours. Generally speaking, I don't really think anyone in that bar would've had the mental wherewithal to crack this code or would've even wanted my ride as it had gears and the handlebars were neither flopped nor chopped.
Living in a non-american regime where you can't buy beer on Sundays, it's very comforting having a fridged stocked w/ Old Syle, Hopslam, and a couple of Bourbon County Stouts tucked away for the end times.

1 comment:

-kw said...

The streets sound rough up in the MNbiodome. Nice to hear that hoarding and scavenging are skills that can still be put to good use somewhere.