Hooray for the Pedal Bikes
I wanted to get myself just one more day of May grey, and i wasn't going to get it by staying in, nor around the hometown. Nope. One final opportunity would only be found by riding out at the coast. Soooo,
off to the ARTIC, down the SART to HB, and along the beach front bike path to the pier, tacos at the SHOR Market Restaurant, let the mrs talk her fill to some "good looking guy" pedaling an Eliptigo-type contraption (and should she be talking like that on the eve of our anniversary?), ogle just a little bit (fair is fair, after all), but not nearly as much as some tipsy motorcyclists at the next table over, watch some surfers glide across some waves, with not a lick of sun to be seen until the surf was at my backside.
"...On the tip, the tip of my tongue
I had a vision when I was young
You floated in, we floated up
Through the window and down the hall
I had a smoke and went upstairs
Turned the door and opened the key...
She's tight
She's ahead of her time
She's tight
She's one of a kind
She's tight
She's a talented girl..."
(Nielsen)
she finds seashells by the seashore
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