27 May 2009

Meet Lucy!

General Lee had Traveller.  Don Quixote had Rocinante.  I have Lucy.

Meet Lucy.  In my fantasies of what Juneaunian life would be like, I pictured sunny 75-degree days in which I would throw on a skirt because it was such nice weather and ride my bike to the nearest organic grocery store to make a fantastic meal that night for my closest friends.  Well, at least I've got the bike thing covered.  And the weather was unusually sunny the first two weeks I was here.  And I'm working on the friends thing.  The organic grocery store, while existent, is a distant financial dream, but I did get to ride my new bike, Lucy, in a skirt one day to A&P (the nearest non-organic--but still local!--grocery store).  I got hit on twice and decided that maybe be-skirted bike riding should be kept in dreams, or at least in a place where there aren't any skeezy fishermen who haven't seen women in months.  

But there's Lucy!  I took some of my graduation money and bought this beautiful little blue marvel of transportation, with a lock and a basket to match.  The bike was way too cute to go without a name, and it just sort of screamed "I'm a Lucy! I'm a Lucy!", so there we have it.  

It was a minor adventure, getting Lucy.  I headed over to Wal-Mart with the sole mission of finding a suitable form of transportation.  Salvation Army didn't have bikes.  I couldn't even find the St. Vincent dePaul Society thrift store, and the over-charging Glacier Bikes store was out.  It was Wal Mart or bust.  I chose the non-busting option and walked back to the sports section with a bit of trepidation.   I turned the corner, and came face to face with destiny.  Lucy sat there, gleaming as much as a bike can gleam in cheap overhead florescent lights.   Set on wheeling her out, I approached the next salesperson I saw, a kindly Native man named Bruce.  After some confusion over finding the serial number and a weird conversation about my trip to Bolivia and the nation's connection to cocaine, I was the proud owner of a new bike.  

Now to get it home.

Well, we have a Jeep.  And Jeeps are unusually short.  This fact comes in mighty handy when, hypothetically, one stalls halfway into a parking space...hypothetically....but isn't very handy when trying to transport large objects.  Kip was on a trip with his team at work the weekend I got Lucy, and I was all alone in my quest to get her in the car.  Showing massive amounts of feminine strength (and shouting about it to the Wal-Mart parking lot, much to a passing man's chagrin), I eventually figured it out and only had to drive with the back window open, a feat for transporting things in the Jeep...ask Kip, who had his butt sticking in the air while trying to hold my desk in the car because we couldn't close the back window or the tailgate to drive it home.  All you women who independent, throw yo' hands up at me.  (Please catch the Destiny's Child reference there)  

I drove out of Wal-Mart, down Glacier Highway (which isn't really much of a highway at all), down Egan (which is the closest we have to a highway), and to the apartment with the care of a new parent.  I'd wager, however, that most new parents don't have to worry about their baby falling out of the open hatch in the back of their vehicle...just a thought.  When I finally made it up the driveway, I exhaled a sigh of relief and exited the car only to find 3/4 of the Juneau-Douglas High School football team standing in the front yard, staring at me, not offering any help.  Kids these days.   I smacked my hands together and surveyed the situation.  I got Lucy in once, I could get her out again.  I am woman, hear me roar!  Well, maybe I wouldn't roar in front of the football team.  I am close enough to high school still to be embarrassed, after all.  Maybe I could have gotten their help if I'd offered to ride my bike in a skirt to the grocery store and make them dinner!  Blast, that's an idea for another day.  


Columbo said...

Oh Cindy, I'm sure that some fishermen would probably hit on you even if they had seen some kind of woman sometime in recent weeks, so don't sell yourself short!

hrobins said...

She's beautiful! I love her, and I am proud of you for getting her in ye ol' Jeep intact. I stood in the parking lot of Whole Foods when I got my bike just staring at my bike, then my trunk...a guy finally rescued me with a wrench and the removal of my front wheel! =)