Scoot Commute

I’m gonna sell the Honda, I hope the Dr Pulley sliders work ok, and the package to Denmark was found

Ok, so I’m depressed today. And I don’t really know why.

Honda Dream & Buddy Scooter at Aidan's in Bristol, RI

Honda Dream & Buddy Scooter at Aidan's in Bristol, RI

I took a vacation day on Friday and after doing some errands, Erik and I finally went for a ride down to Bristol to visit Aidan’s. I go to Bristol when I’ve had it with people. We left late and encountered a lot of traffic. Simply trying to get onto I-195 East to go the one lousy exit (to Exit 4 to head down to Riverside, East Providence) over the river was challenging. A woman in white car, who was behind us all through Davol Square and onto the entrance ramp at Wickenden decided we were not accelerating quickly enough and tore around us in the right lane and then up the ramp onto 195. We stay in the far right lane over the bridge as it leads directly into the exit ramp at Exit 4 where it was backed up on the left fork (we needed to take the right fork). The same woman in the white car went up the right fork until the very last moment and cut in toward the left, cutting off many others patiently waiting to exit the ramp. It really must suck being so important and yet trapped in your car trying to get off the highway. I don’t know how such people get through their daily lives, so important yet burdened with the mundane.

As I’m sitting in the pub, chowing down on my burger with rashers and bleu cheese and watching the sun go down over the harbor, I turn to Erik and announce “I’m going to sell the Honda.” I had wanted to ride the CB750 down to Bristol but I knew we would hit traffic and didn’t fancy riding in stop-and-go traffic in Barrington and Warren on this giant bike. I wish it wasn’t so heavy. It makes me sad but I feel better now that I’ve made the decision.

Saturday was Halloween. I love to have the kids come in their costumes, all dressed up and sweet. Even the teenagers with their suffering attitudes don’t bother me on Halloween because you do get them to melt when you ask about what their favorite candy is or if they’re having fun bringing their little sister or brother out in costume.

We need to buy a refrigerator for the second floor apartment in the new building, so we walk over to Public Street to visit the weird little appliance shop. I like what they have but wanted to walk over to the other weird little appliance shop on Elmwood Ave. We head down the street and bump into our former neighbors who bought a house in South Elmwood. They’re helping their friends move from the boys’ house into the unit in their new house. Dave is riding Fran’s Pamplona and we tell them about Patrick selling off the stock at Javaspeed. The couple who are moving are interested in buying a 50cc Buddy so I do hope they had a chance to get one. And I hope that Patrick and co. are doing ok. Having a shop in the same city you live in has been a luxury…whenever I need a part for whatever bike, I can ride over in a few minutes and get what I need, plus a good dose of advice and a thoughtful chat.

I need to change out the rollers in Buddy. I have the Dr Pulley sliders but apparently I need an impact wrench. We head out to Harbor Freight in Warwick after Erik did his research of what one to get (I really have no idea what an impact wrench does and I don’t understand why a normal wrench wouldn’t work). We wander around the store, overhearing the staff complain about being open on Halloween night as the place is dead. We both ooh and ahh over the motorcycle lift. I really want one and I don’t think $349 is outrageous by any means, but could think of a lot of other ways to spend that amount money. We’ll see what Santa brings.

I looked over the hi-viz tape but they only had the red and white stripey kind. I don’t want to look like an 18-wheeler. I do like the hi-viz stuff. I just want the entire bike to glow and all my gear to glow. Glow glow glow. See me, don’t kill me.

We walked over to the power tools section where another guy was looking over the impact wrenches. Erik found the one he wanted from his Innerwebs research but it was priced at 80 dollars. Online it was $42 and Erik looked at me and said, “this is the one but that’s crazy.” Being female I have no shame when it comes to shopping. I picked it up and started to walk to the register. Erik started to explain to the check-out person about the price differential and she said, “oh, do you have a print-out.” Erik the librarian to the rescue. Of course he had printed it out. She honored the online price and as he was completing the sale (oh I got another heat gun because every girl needs several heat guns and for a measly $9.99, well what more can I need in life…there’s layers of lino that’ll need scraping up at the new house) I took the print-out and walked back over to the guy who was still looking over the impact wrenches. By this point he was holding the one we had just purchased. I said, “Excuse me, but the wrench you have in your hand is only $42 online and the clerk honoured the price. Here, just show her this.” He looked at me for a moment and then said, “oh hey, thanks, thanks a lot.” I assume he got the wrench.

There’s a Target in the same shopping center so I ran over to check on some typical Target stuff. Only got one pair. Walking back to the car I said to Erik, “I think he’s happy now. Maybe he’ll go home and make love to his wife and she’ll be happy.” I was all high on the happiness. Until about 9pm.

Peacock Pumpkin at Roger Williams Zoo

Peacock Pumpkin at Roger Williams Zoo

We never get a lot of trick-or-treaters and even though Halloween was a warm Saturday evening we still didn’t get many. Three came about 8:45 – 9:00 pm-ish, two younger children (10-11 ish in age) and an older late teens/early twenties candy monger. I gave them each a bunch of candy (we had way too much, as usual, so I was doling out 3 pieces each) and told them to have a fun night. I have a double airlock door to my house; the main outside door and then a small foyer that is locked off with another door. I hadn’t been locking the front door, just pushing it closed. Since we had the vintage lockset added and the wood bits built back up, the door doesn’t engage unless you push really hard (and hear the click). I guess I didn’t push it hard enough to the click because when I close the inside door, the front door will open slightly due to the change in air pressure. The three that had visited must have reached in and grabbed the orange plastic pumpkin I was using to hold the candy because when the next trick-or-treater, a sweet, tiny little girl dressed as a vampiress rang, I looked down for the candy and it was gone. I told her to hold on one moment as I had another bag of candy in the kitchen, and called out to Erik asking if he saw the pumpkin anywhere. Nope, and I handed the little one a couple of pieces of candy and wished her a fun night.

I then pulled on my shoes and headed down in the direction of the boys’ house. Paul was dressed as the undead clown (he looked particularly scary this year) and David was Robin. Mark was sitting in the foyer so I couldn’t really see his costume. He was in a mood, as was I, so I didn’t really engage with the crew. They told me what direction the group had headed.

I continued down the street and saw the three of them at Casby’s house (the dog with 9 lives was answering the door!). I stood on the street in front of the blue house and the woman of the house (I still don’t know these neighbors) came down and offered me kettle corn. I laughed and said I was waiting for the group across the street to finish up at Casby’s as I wanted to have a chat. I walked over and confronted the oldest who was carrying an orange plastic pumpkin that was absolutely full (and much fuller than the little one behind her with the same pumpkin). I asked if she had grabbed the bucket and she adamantly denied doing so. The little one then said he had to go to the bathroom and she said they were almost home; they live on the street!

I walked back home, meeting Erik at the boys’ house (he thought I may have been shivved!). I said my goodnights and walked back home. I looked at Erik and asked him why people make the wrong decisions? He has told me over and over that I expect too much from people. When I was little I always wanted an orange plastic pumpkin to collect candy on Halloween night. But we never had anything like that in my house. I didn’t even have a lunchbox growing up (why would I when a brown paper bag, neatly folded and returned home every day would do the trick). I finally broke down and bought my stupid orange plastic pumpkin a few years ago to use to hand out candy. And now someone pushed open the front door of my home and took it. And then denied it to my face.  I am just done with people.

Used rollers

Used rollers in a Dr Pulley container

Today, Sunday, was time to use that impact wrench. We switched out the rollers for sliders at about 5100 miles. The first ride was pretty crappy so I do hope they settle down. It was like taking off on pavement made of molasses. I raked a lot of leaves. Bags and bags of leaves. As I’m mooshing the leaves down into the bag, I thought that I never knew there was such a thing as leaf bags until I moved to Rhode Island. In New York there aren’t leaves. Where I grew up, you just rake them into a big pile and then something happens to them. I think my dad burned them. On Long Island people push them into the road and the big machine comes and sucks them up. But where we lived, the leaves just stayed on the ground as compost. A perk to living at the garden club.

Otherwise, I’m still down. I usually like autumn. Not this year. I think it’s going to be a long winter. I better get planning a holiday now. I want DJ Hero. I have to stop watching In Treatment. It’s bringing me down.

Oh, an apparently one of my neighbors found the package that fell out of my milkcrate last week that was headed to Denmark. She put it on my porch and believes the mailperson took it (even though it didn’t have any postage affixed). I guess it fell out at the speed bump right near my house. Thanks, Michelle, for picking it up and putting it on my porch. I’m going to call Gary at my local post office to ask what happens to packages that don’t have postage. Talk about purgatory…can you imagine the non-postage room at the post office. Kafka would have a field day.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: