I told myself: Buy a bicycle and maybe get laid someday…or a rocking-chair and sit on my porch for the rest of my life and just get fatter?
I’ve been wanting both, and heavily leaning toward the rocking chair simply because it would require a lot less effort and be cheaper. Plus there’s no guarantee of me getting laid, even if I do get a bicycle - but it would certainly help since I have no money.
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My front porch is bare, yet offers amazing 180 degree views of the Bridger Mountains and one of my favorite pastimes is sitting on my fat ass …so a rocking chair would be nice to have? As then I could sit out there daily and stare at the mountains I’m unable to climb during elk-season, because I’m too fat and out of shape; …which is why I might be better off with a bicycle…?
Such are the childish dilemmas when you’re flat broke and feeling kinda stupid lately…
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I shopped for a rocking chair at Murdoch’s, but they’re not in stock yet- it not being considered ‘Spring’ here in Bozeman; as there’s still threats of snow near every night of the week in the middle of bloody May?!
So I went to look at bicycles at the pawn shop, but found none to fit my girth and the one closest was “way too expensive for the piece of shit it is”; and I wasn’t shy about telling the pawn shop idiot either. Of course by doing so he ignored me shortly thereafter when I asked him 'how much the elk shoulder-mount went for?'
I found a nice bicycle at a store down near Main Street, but it was very expensive and the cost of about 4 rocking chairs, so I dilly dallied and just generally wasted the young fella’s time anyway; since I’d bothered to come in at all.
He didn't seem bothered even when I asked him to show me their largest version; a GIANT XL, which required him to climb up stairs and bring it down; and took about 15 minutes.
Once down he insisted I give it a spin out in the alley and I felt obliged.
The thing was huge even by my standards, though I’m 6’3”…“and weigh about 300” I told the kid; …I don’t think he bought the latter figure, as he had this look on his face that said he ‘was guessing much higher?’
He was probably right and it’s possible I’m about 330ish, but since I hadn’t weighed myself wisely (as it would be depressing) in well over 4 years; I stuck to my old favorite of 300. While I was likely off on my weight, there was little question I was off by much on “how long it’d been since I’d ridden a bicycle…?” which he asked hesitantly trying to get me to wear a helmet.
I guessed 10, but still scoffed at donning the silly thing for just a short ride, though could tell he was nervous about a lawsuit?
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‘Twelve years to be exact’, now thinking back, and this explained why I almost didn’t even mount the bloody thing the first time without taking a spill. I was embarrassed beyond belief by my lack of coordination and spun quickly to be sure no one saw what I’d just done. I can’t be sure if he did or didn’t, but was kind enough not to show it even if he had.
I got my balance after a few wavering feet and remarked to myself the truism:”you really do ‘never forget’?” I pedaled down the alleyway and thought “my God I’m actually riding a bicycle…look at me?”…and began thinking I might just buy the damned thing?
Then I caught my reflection in the bank window and my heart sank; that along with my girth visbly flattening the tires with each stroke; it was clear I’m much too large to be on ‘any bike’ other than a stationary one.
Wearing saggy denim jeans and a red and white flannel redneck shirt didn’t help one bit, as it was forever clear I’d gone far too long without exercise; and might be beyond the point of turning back…?
I was seriously bummed.
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I quickly returned and remarked to the young fella how “the tires seemed to be riding rather low” and suggested “it might be lack of pressure?” ….He thankfully said “it was possible since it’d been in the attic so long” and kindly filled them up a bit more to capacity.
Looking for valid excuses not to buy and get the Hell outa there, I asked:…”What’s the weight-limit on these things?”
“Oh they don’t tell us that.”
Now the BS was almost insulting; he was being too kind; and obviously wanted to make a sale.
“Do you have one with fatter tires maybe; like on a beach cruiser?”
“I don’t think that’s the problem” he finally cracked- it was too much for him to hold back
He recovered quickly though, realizing what he’d just said and continued:”...but, but I’ve sold bikes to bigger guys before and they never complained?”
I just smiled knowing he was full of shit, but didn’t feel like proving I was certainly the fattest. Instead I inquired once more about ‘how many gears it has’ and he said “21” and I stood shaking my head? Much as I’d done when he’d said it earlier and foolishly showed my ignorance by asking if it “came with an instruction manual?” He had laughed at that, but quickly realized he was dealing the genuine article - a total fat dude loser who was being entirely serious, and hadn’t been on a bike in forever.
As I finally wimped out on the deal and said weakly I’d “think about it and be back tomorrow”.
…If there was one thing I was certain I’d accomplished on this rather fruitless adventure into the town of Bozeman, was several jokes would be circulating that evening in the local pub at my expense, but felt I’d at least bridged the gap of actually entering a fitness-store;…so that was a start?
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On the way home I did stop at Wal-Mart and went directly to the fat men’s department, grabbed a pair of fitness looking pants - dark blue with the white double-stripe down the length and a matching jacket just the same; and went to the changing room with determination “I’d at the very least go home looking healthier, if not a pound lighter for my effort.”
I asked if they’d mind me wearing the items out to my truck, and they obliged - though sent an embarrassed looking skinny teenager with me to make sure the fat ass paid for his $30.00 Al Sharpton costume…?
Once in the truck it became apparent, I’d just blown another afternoon NOT looking for a job, and NOT feeling any better about myself, and worst of all Now had nowhere to keep my wallet, nor car keys; not bothering to get one with #@x% pockets..!?
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This was about 2 weeks ago when all of the above occurred…, but since I just spent two full days without getting outa bed following my total-bust bear hunt; where I almost died from heart palpitations twice; I went to town this morning with the determination to buy the damned thing, ride the damned thing, and maybe even survive another season here in Montana!?
Of course five minutes later me and the girls found ourselves in the Arby’s drive-thru, but I aim to begin a diet of sorts as well (tomorrow).
…And if by some stroke of luck and timing, along with my new found physique, I get laid in the next 6 months; I’ll consider that a bonus…!?
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I can already see there’s at least one problem with it, after my little two-mile spin this evening…and that is “I’m gonna need a bigger seat until my ass gets a lot smaller”; else my underwear might have to be surgically removed if I ever try that again.
That and I might take my bicycle for a ride to a neighborhood not my own (in back of truck), until I lose about fifty pounds..? As besides the bumpy gravel-road and being dusted every 60 seconds by passing trucks, I attracted quite a lot of unnecessary attention this evening from folks who don’t know me but have seen me around; and even had a few cows and horses stop what they were doing and stare at the fat ass on the bicycle?
Moe
