This seasonal shift must have lulled me into a false sense of security because I was certainly caught off guard outside the post office today.
I'm the first to admit I often look ridiculous while riding my bike. The helmet I wear was spray painted gold to help finish my Legends of the Hidden Temple Green Monkey costume for Halloween. My attire varies from a rolled up pair of jeans to workout capris depending up on the day. I've dropped the reflective vest I wore for the winter. With 19 hours of daylight I bank on drivers seeing me.
Anyway, I was fastening my gold helmet after situating my iPod. I had just mailed a slew of birthday wishes and a toothbrush and was about to unlock my bike from it's make-shift rack (a parking meter) when I caught this fat, bearded Santa-esque character out of the corner of my eye.
He was jostling around readying himself to get in the passenger side of a Geo Metro. He was a big dude. Big. Jolly.
I could see him say something to me but couldn't hear it over the Amy Winehouse blaring in my ear.
"What's that?," I asked him, pulling a headphone out of my right ear.
"You all sure do look ridiculous with those helmets on," he said in what I can only imagine was that strenuously-breathed obese person way.
"Well I'll take looking silly if it keeps my brains off the road."
"You know they did some studies in Australia that found they don't help all that much. You're more likely to snap your neck in one of those."
"I guess I'll take my chances," I said as I hastily left the situation.
It takes a big pair, an Alaska-sized pair to call someone out as looking goofy whilst looking absurd yourself. I guess it's just another in the series of minds that have snapped shut to the idea of biking in Anchorage. It's just surprising, just sad.
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