Maybe you’ve seen them riding around town in packs like some gay version of the Hell’s Angels. Cut-off jean shorts, deep V’s, and the purse-like satchel bags, (what the fuck do they carry in those things anyway) these losers couldn’t intimidate a classroom full of special ed kids; as a matter of fact, just replace the bicycles with Volkswagen Beetles and you’ve got a roving gang of Clay Aiken fans.
Fixed-gear bike enthusiasts have managed to officially get on my nerves, not just because they’re enormous dorks, but because they're completely oblivious to the lameness of their newest obsession, and they think they’re cool.
Just recently a guy I know was showing me pictures of his new $5000 fixed-gear bike (the pictures were also on his iphone, but that’s a whole other story) and pointing out the stupid overpriced Japanese components—the whole scene reminded me a total puss and even less interesting version of Pimp My Ride. This obsession has seemingly become a counter culture version of import cars—the indie rockers’ answer to tricked out Hondas & Acuras, except these cars would have no brakes and only one gear. How awesome, right?
Now, this wouldn’t bother me so much if there were some sort of motive behind spending unending amounts of time and money on bikes, but there isn’t. So unless your goal is to repel girls while looking like a bunch of dudes on boner patrol, ditch the purse, make a choice between pants or shorts and get a fucking car.
1 comment:
Yes. I've been saying it for years.
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