
Friday, 2:45pm and the bike feels like part of my body. 37 hours under my belt, 3 more to go. Pulling moves I wouldn’t even consider on a Monday at 8:45am. Smooth like new cables and housing. The sun is out. And I’m in. Comfortable. Confident. Cocky. At ease. I’ve got the home court advantage. I own these streets, all you drivers are just borrowing them. Coasting. Carving lines. Rolling. Moving things along. White lines. Handiramps. Taxis. Tourists. Busses. Redlights. Receptionists. Elevators. Security guards. Dispatchers. Co-workers. All the issues remedied with a twitch of the hips. Every little ting, gonna be alright. 
perception is reality
it is what it is
you think
gas prices? what gas prices?
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