last month my bike got stolen. i managed to grab a new bike of the same model at a pretty steep discount, but the only color they had left in stock was pink. at the time i joked: “hehe. forcefemmed by fate...”
yesterday i’m wearing a pink lacy t-shirt you can see my bra straps through (on account of it’s hot out), riding my all-pink step-through beach cruiser to the grocery store, and i park it at the bike rack, and i look over: there’s this jet black cyclist-ass city bike with all the fixin’s chained to the same rack. i think, “what a funny tableau.”
i come back out of the store with my groceries and the owner of the bike is chilling there having a sip. she is cool and athletic-looking. she is dressed as black as her bike. she says nothing as i load my groceries onto my barbie-mobile.
finally, as i unlock my bike and begin taxiing, she says: “pretty bike.”
“th—thanks,” i mumble, looking at the ground for some reason; “uh, i had a blue one but it got stolen,”—now my voice is shrinking into inaudibility—“and they only had pink in stock...”
she laughs. i ride away.
forcefemmed by fate!!!
