Rides 8/28: Fax number on your business card: weird or not?

Is it still Thursday? It's been Thursday forever or so it seems. Thursday is, without a doubt, the (second) worst day. It's not the end of the week yet, but tantalizingly close. It's enough days into the week to solidify a judgment (a negative judgment perhaps) on the week's overall tenor (Pavorotti stars in the Green Acres opera?) without yet being able to fully escape that week, so you have to sit through the whole day knowing that the week has been, on the whole, not a great one, but you've still got enough of it left that you can't really do anything about it except muddle through, knowing no matter how good the next few days might go, the week will still be, on average, what Monday through Wednesday rendered it already. Thursday is the day you envy people taking even longer long weekends. Thursday is the day you want to be Friday, but isn't Friday. Thursday taunts. Thursday is fake accomplishment, like a perfect attendance award or Miss Congeniality or a Master's degree they give you when you drop out of a Ph. D program. Today was Thursday and still is. 

I got stuck behind a man today who refused to take his turn at a flashing red light. He was on a folding bike and I suppose I can understand his trepidation, but driver after driver tired to wave him on and he demured, but cyclists behind us rode through and we just both waited. He waited because that's what he felt was necessary to do, probably because of safety (or perhaps a misunderstanding of the law) and I waited because I will, in virtually every case, defer to the judgment of the cyclist in front of me, even when he's wrong. A man must have a code, and all that. Eventually he went and I went and the past was history, as the past tends to be. Anyway, my general advice at flashing red lights is to turn turns, but with care. That's my story. 

I've been riding on paths more lately and there's a certain kind of path user who travels down the center of the path, and not on the right side as is customary. This person is the Marcia Brady if path users. I am Jan. Some other people are Greg, Peter, Bobby and Cindy and you [yes, you!] are Alice. In conclusion, maybe don't travel down the center of the path? 

School's back and the crossing guards are back. That we need them isn't great, but they they're there is. 

Massachuseets Avenue, which I take on the ride home, has been dug up for utility work lately and there are some rather "fun" divots every so often. A smaller tired bike might not fare as well. 

L Street to 15th and then Pennsylvania, where a driver told me she liked my shirt, which is a pocketed Road a Holland bike jersey. I also enjoy its pockets. I keep things in there, like a mama koala. Along with my keys and phone, it's also where I keep my mama koala similes. Ample room in there, like in a kangaroo pouch. 

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