Wednesday, March 9, 2011


Before the Contraption Captain was my boyfriend he was my friend.  He loved bicycling and had no car.  I worked from 2pm to midnight and drove my father's Lexus ES300, he gave it to me when I moved to California.  Great guy, my dad. 

Contraption Captain worked his way around to asking me if I biked.  I blinked at him from the depths of my single mother financial suffering and said "I used to be a bicyclist" hearing in my voice how lame that sounded even as I spoke the words.  He asked if I wanted to go for a bike ride.  I said that I had a 9 year old at home with a bike with flat tires.  My four year old had no bike at all.  And my bike had been sold by my ex to fund his drug addictions.  Yeah, that kind of ex. 

It was the first time I saw Contraption Captain angry.  He's just about never mad.  He doesn't really get mad, just goes into the shop and builds a new vehicle if he's feeling confused about something.  "HE SOLD YOUR BIKE?"

I blinked again.  I was so accustomed to the crazy ex I had forgotten that taking a valued possession belonging to someone else and selling it for Vicodin is actually kindof un-cool. 

C. Captain: Well if I bring a bike for you, fix the 9 year old's bike, and bring a bike wagon for your youngest, would you want to go for a bike ride?

me:  umm, yes?

That weekend he showed up riding his huge recumbent, pulling a bike wagon which he'd put another bicycle on top of, I think.  He pumped up the 9 year old's bike tires and checked the thing over and then we all went for a ride.  That was when I started to love California.  Maybe also when I started to love my Contraption Captain. 

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