Well at the expo they did have lots of styles of recumbent bicycles and they had this one type with three wheels... a recumbent tricycle and inside the big building on the glass smooth concrete floor they just flew. They were easy to ride, comfortable and FUN!!!!! I was instantly hooked.
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But the memory of flying along did not go away and I kept bringing it back up... and up... and up. But Master kept putting it off and it was raining and raining and raining. But this last Saturday, Master was spanking me and once again made the complaint that my ass was too bony. Pffftttt... like he isn't happy I lost all that weight. I mean I have repeated offered to eat lots of cheesecake for his spanking comfort but he just says no. Darn it... anyway this last Saturday I did say... "If you buy me a recumbent tricycle, I would get big muscley buns..." So Master said, "Okay, we will go for a test ride on city streets and see how you like it outside, see if it is still like you remember." Happy dance.
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So after the ride, Master asked me what I wanted and I pointed at the secksy blue trike and said... "I want that, if you will permit it." And he pulled out a little square of plastic... dontcha just love plastic??? ...and abracadabra, it was my secksy blue trike.
One downside with trikes is they just don't fit in the trunk of a Pontiac, so Master had to pick up with is truck on Monday. I raced home a half hour early with all these plans to get dinner ready so we could go out for a ride the instant Master pulled up to the house but surprise, surprise, Master was already home. His truck parked in the usual place, but no bike in evidence. I walked into the house and he was sitting at the computer playing dumb computer games... grrr... I said.... happy, excited voice... "You are HOME!!!" And he made a small noncommunicable grunt. Voice growing suspicious, this could easily be a terrible mind fuck... "Where is my bike?" Again a shrug and grunt, he does not look up from his computer. I go into the garage and then look out at the back yard... nothing.... nothing... nothing... Louder voice, tears starting to fill my eyes... "You didn't get it?"
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Master and I spent most of the evening driving around town shopping for new tires for his bike. I swear, Master has five broken down bicycles that he won't let go of... but when I want to go for a ride, none of them work. I am half tempted to take my magic piece of plastic and go get him a bike but then he would still not let go of the five broken down pieces of junk.
Your Master can store his five pieces of broken down junk in my garage, they will fit right in with W's five hundred pieces of junk. The black hole garage, things go in, but they don't come out. Shheeesh, men. (sorry for the mini rant)
ReplyDeleteSounds like you are going to have a lot of fun! It's a very pretty bike.