I Want to Ride Your Bicycle

While sitting at the park this afternoon, I managed to read, listen to music, take pictures, and people-watch all at the same time. I sighted a few runners, observed their form, thought about how much I miss running. Then I got over it and went back to whatever I was doing.

A while later I caught a bicyclist in my periphery. I usually notice the bike first – what kind it is, the pedals, the gears, the handlebars – and if I see the pedals are clipless, I try to see what kind of shoes are attached, then I can’t help but notice the legs that are attached to the shoes, etc. YOU know.

This guy rode a red mountain bike, which looked old, but sturdy. He was bald, and it crossed my mind how much he looked like Mr. Locke from Lost, but younger. He seemed a little older, but not too old. I guess like his bike, except more attractive.

Before I realized I was actually staring at him so I could quickly look away, he found my eyes and smiled at me, and we said hello to each other.

He rode past me and stopped to rest a few benches away in the shade. We looked at each other, and then I sent the following text to some friends: “A guy rode on his bike into the park. We said hi to each other. If he tried picking up on me, I might let him…”

I went back to my book, all the while acutely aware of the bicyclist ogling me. I took a drink from my water bottle and happened to glance at him drinking from his. I sat a while longer, pretending to read, watching people walk by me and adoring their cute babies.

The bicyclist remounted his bike and rode past me again, and he told me to have a good day, and I told him to take care, and I thought that was the end of it. I “read” for a little while longer and saw that he stopped at a fountain behind me, about 75 feet away. I could feel his eyes searing the top of my head.

I checked the time and decided it was time to go. I packed up my things and started walking toward the car. I ended up walking in front of the bicyclist, and I smiled at him, then all of a sudden I got really shy and turned away onto the path that led to the car.

As I neared the park entrance, I turned my head to the right and saw the bicyclist riding next to me. He asked what my plans were. I cleared my throat. I asked him to get off his bike, and I would tell him. We stopped at the gate.

He gently pushed me against the threshold, and before I could breathe, he leaned down and kissed me. The breeze from the river blew through my hair. His hands barely held me; it was his warm, soft lips that paralyzed me, except for my arms which pulled him closer.

Without breaking, we fumbled our way to a bench, and our mouths continued to work together. His stubble tickled my face. I liked his hands holding the back of my head, the small of my back. All of my senses drastically sharpened, except for my sense of time, and perhaps, my common sense.

Just kidding! We did chat for a moment when he pulled up beside me, then he just kept on riding.

And I went home.

A little discussion.

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