I’m getting a bike.
You’re sweet, Jax. But I just mean a regular old run of the mill Huffy or Schwinn or whatever you kids call it nowadays. Especially when gas prices are this ridiculously unnecessarily.
And the establishing of city-owned gas stations is hurting more than helping.
Now, that might sound contradictory – because the city owned gas stations like the one in Kentucky actually lower gas prices slightly. But it actually ends up needlessly screwing over the local Mom ‘n pop operations. These new gas locales don’t even need to be turning a profit, but by competing with the local dudes and national average alike, it helps attract tourism. Somehow. Allegedly.
You know, I’m racking my neuronal hard drive and coming up short. ‘cause I can’t find the file on that one time – where once, while brainstorming of places to go on holiday – that I said, “Ah, you’re right. I mean Kentucky sounds boring and useless and we might get violated in one of our holes, but you’ve got a good point. They do have cheap gas!”
In the end, it just all boils down to straight up unmitigated greed.
Either way, someone gets screwed – you or the townie.
But they can’t screw me on my bike.
So that’s the answer, for sure. I mean, really. I’ve got exactly zero point zero excuses to be not riding around on a bike during summer when I work from home (and don’t hafta commute). I wouldn’t have to wear a boob strangler (safety belt). I could finally morally look down on other people ‘cause I wasn’t leaving my carbon paw print and they were (and fall off my vehicle while thumbing nose). And– most importantly – I wouldn’t be wasting gas I do need to save for later for when I have to get out of town quickly because the Godzilla aliens have landed and I’d like to die somewhere prettier while filming the whole thing. #cloverfield
This will ironically be tough when it comes to exercise. I drive to most of my locations because I like to 1. Run outside and 2. Run outside where there are fewer CO fumes that I’m contributing to by driving to my non CO fume location. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the drive to and from my little energy expenditure excursions. There’s something cathartic about manning literal death metal machines. So that’ll be hard.
Caveat two? I have to turn my jog into a biathlon if I want breezy A/C heading home.
Caveat three? No blasting Starf*cker and annoying other red-light traffic with my natch pre-workout.
It’d be a rebellious act, giving up all that to save cash and stick it to the man.
Anarchical even.
Hey, maybe I am worthy of SOA status, after all.