2005-08-04 - 11:56 p.m.

Blush, blush…I have a CRUSH..!!

We’ve only been together for about two weeks, but it feels like the real deal.
He’s big and handsome and strong.
He’s spirited and fun…and he makes me feel great. WOW.
I feel totally free and happy when he’s around.
He keeps me in shape, too…with lots of (ahem, ahem) EXERCISE…if you get my drift.
Oh, GOD…he’s SO good..!! (*blush*)
He helps me reach places I haven’t reached in years...
…like Battery Park.

He’s my BIKE.

That’s right, I’m in a wonderful one-on-one relationship with my new bike. His pedigree is impeccable. He’s a descendent of the legendary Schwinn family. His full name is High Timber 2.6 FS, but I call him “Tim”…or “Timbo” if I’m feeling playful.

I love to sit on him…and ride him like a wild pony. Sometimes fast and furious and sweaty; sometimes slow and smoothe and easy. We have no agenda, me and Tim; we just do whatever feels right, and we ALWAYS enjoy the ride. We both love doing it outdoors…and we don’t care who’s watching.

Tim is so easy to please. I love taking care of him…wiping him down after a long ride, oiling his parts, squeezing his alloy linear pull brakes to assure quick stops in WET or dry conditions. But, when I’m with Tim…I NEVER want to STOP..!!

He’s so mature and confident. He doesn’t need to show off with 18 speeds and skinny racing tires. He’s a self-assured MOUNTAIN bike…with great style and a solid 7-speed Shimano drivetrain…and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Timbo and I had great laughs today…watching all the Lance Armstrong wannabes riding along the Hudson River bike path. Sopping wet 250-pound beefers pedaling their feather-light racing bikes wearing size XXXXXXL spandex racing shorts (with the padded seats), the requisite yellow zip-front jerseys and deluxe vented helmets. (Mind you, this is the flattest, safest bike path in New York City.) We passed one flamboyant fatso whose yellow jersey featured a festive red parrot-print. Um, this guy was also wearing a bandana on his head in a "hey dude” 70’s way…AND smoking a cigarette, while steering his bike with one hand.

Tim and I just howled. We both screamed "Easy Rider" at the same time. It was hilarious. We have the same sense of humor; how great is that?

On the way home we stopped at Elixir on Hudson Street for Berry Lean smoothies. I sat on the bench outside the shop, staring at Tim and sipping my smoothie seductively. Tim struck a casual pose with his jaunty kickstand glistening in the sun. I love it when he does that.

Tim is staying in my apartment. I know, I know…we’ve only been going out for two weeks, but we’re so comfortable together. I can’t stand the thought of leaving him in the bike room in the basement…with all those other women coming in and out. I admit it…I’m jealous! I don’t want some 20-something bimbo giving Tim the eye. He’s extremely good looking; I’ve seen the way women stare at him. I don’t want some young blonde stealing him away from me.

I like knowing that my Timbo is ready and waiting…whenever I need a good ride.

Last night I had a dream that Tim’s front tire separated from the rim…and I didn’t know how to repair it. Panic. I tried putting it back together again…but nothing worked. I felt helpless; it was awful. I woke up in a cold sweat…and immediately walked over to check on Tim. He was resting so peacefully (and totally intact!) He couldn’t be any cuter if he was a tricycle…!! I drifted back to sleep, knowing that when I woke up Tim would be there for me.

“Hey, baby…want a ride?” he’ll ask.

And I’ll say, “MMMMmmmmm yes…you know I like it in the morning.”


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