You don’t need a fast car…
A young friend just posted to Facebook:
Three friends have gotten engaged in the past week. I'm 30 and single. I need a fast car, and stat!!
Which made me realize that I met — by which I mean “made the acquaintance of”— Jenny at a time when I was effectively carless, when I was 30 years old. Ten years ago this summer.
We were neighbors in Northwest Portland — I lived just down the hall from her (or vice versa) and we would see each occasionally on the stairs or elevator or in the hall. Usually, when I was hauling my bike somewhere.
We had exchanged lots of “hi how are you” kind of pleasantries. I don’t remember those. I do remember when she asked me: “do you you know any good bike rides around here?” Like a yutz I said something like, “oh yeah, I know a bunch of rides up in the hills.” And then our neighborly relationship kind of lay fallow for six or seven months until I got my head screwed on straight enough to realize: my foxy neighbor was hitting on me.
I do have to give a little credit to my old dog Sitka who was the most popular dog in the building.
TL;DR: you don’t need a fast car, you need a fast bike.