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Booze and Clipless Pedals Do Not Mix

It all started with a slight nervousness as I pondered upon placing my new, bright and shiny, clipless shoes into my clipless pedals. I was so frightened that I would fall off, I decided to walk my bike all the way to the park in my socks. I was on my way to a very dear friend who has contributed much in the way of emotional support as well as financial support in helping me purchase the equipment needed to have a good assault at the up and coming Mayflower Sprint Triathlon.

Dinner was scheduled for 6pm and it was almost 5:15pm. Now, my friend lives on the east side, 89th neighborhood. I live on the west side, 68th neighborhood. I did not have a metro card as I did not pick up my pay check so I still only had sixteen dollars in the bank. The bike was a no brainer and it would get me there easily. I could go slow enough not to sweat through my shirt. I did bring another shirt change so that I would be a nice smelling house guest. My friend is of proper lineage and deserves a respectful and proper house guest. This is not always easy for me to do since everything I own, I could fit in the back seat of my car. Three pair of pants, two dress shirts and various miss matched socks. Lol. Tons of sweat pants and ghetto looking short sleeve shirts. I am a man of simple needs without want for anything but a smile and a plateful of food once in a while. Life is great for me that way.

I sat on the porch with my friend, but this time it was different. I asked for an adult beverage. I do not drink hardly at all. I have lost 23 pounds now and with my little frame and physical shape, it really does not take much to get me tipsy. I was offered bourbon and something about soda or rocks - hell - I just pretended to know what he was talking about. I ended up with bourbon on the rocks. Holy crap! How can anyone drink that stuff? Lol. After my first chocolate milk sized gulp, I just sipped for the rest of the night. The funny thing was that after four hours of sipping, every time I got up I would feel progressively more dizzy. One drink, not even finished, and yet I was tipsy. I asked my host if the next time I come over if I would be served only a half a glass of this stuff because it really was strong. My friend's answer was "Paul. Yes it is strong and do you know that is your 7th glass of that so called stuff?" Oh my Lord! What the hell? I still had my bike to ride home! I still only had my clipless shoes to put into my clipless pedals and try to navigate over one block, up one block, and over one more block, back into the park where I would be a bit safer than in the middle of the Manhattan taxi bumper car driven world of 5th Avenue. I was freaking out but not letting on at all how I was thinking of walking home the entire way in my socks.

Okay, on the bike now. I did not have half as much trouble putting my shoes into the pedals as I thought. Road over one block and felt like my shoe was not very tight. I moved close to an SUV so I could hold onto the side and try to fix my shoe. I was only leaning on the side for a mere second when I fell right over on my shoulder while still clipped into the darn bike. The couple that was getting out of this vehicle kept a stern face but I know they must have been pissing their pants when they saw the likes of me. I had to ask them to get my feet out of the darn pedals and that it was okay to laugh because this was pretty darn funny, although those were not the exact choice of words I used. Lol. They immediately were laughing so hard as they tried to get me out of the pedals. At this time, because of a bit of aerobic activity, the effects of the booze tripled its impact and I was toast. They offered to drive me home and place my $50 Schwinn bike in their 95 thousand dollar Mercedes. I declined the offer and managed to get back on my bike and get back into the park.

In the park, I was now going the wrong direction against the other runners and bikers who had reflective clothing blinking annoying lights and head lights on their bikes. You see, it was almost 9pm here in Manhattan and it was pitch black. I came upon a truck re-stocking a restaurant in the park. I did not think that he could not see me and I skidded at the last second and managed to slide around in front of him, through a huge bush which had two people doing very loving or very naughty things. I know this because I crashed right into them. A rather plum-aged old man was yelling at me in Russian and a not so ravishing, topless woman was now standing over me with a clump of newly planted green grass sticking out of her very bad wig, trying to help me up. I did need lots of help at that point. I managed to calm the man down and walked the bike home for the last 1/4 mile. I really could have used Ivan Dragoff at this point. Lol. Wait, come to think of it, he sort of looked like Ivan! Lol.

I got home and opened my backpack to get my keys and do you know what the bleep I found in my pack? A darn pair of slip on loafers. I was too nervous in the beginning to remember them and on the way home probably just too darn tipsy to care. Lol.

Not a very good way to learn for the first time to ride in my bright white and shiny clipless shoes and clipless pedals.