Started out as an ordinary day. You know, one day at eighty degrees and today snowing kind of day.
Following the usual routine, updating the new (real or fake?) and on time to mount up and ride the route, I see nothing unusual. Well except that it is snowing.
Not many people out except guys in yellow vest and hardhats tearing up the sidewalks with their noisy machines and the laundry trucks darting through the streets picking up stinky underwear and leaving behind pressed shirts wrapped in plastic. No one is walking their dogs or pushing baby strollers on this day’s wintery mix.
I ride in the morning to get my functions going and up to speed. Taking deep breaths and stretching to get the old thumper pump going and the crimson juice circulating my habit is mostly uninterrupted and I can concentrate of the day ahead.
Wind in the face my senses become alert to sound and movement. Mostly trying to avoid drivers talking on the phone and the potholes, I can pretty much follow the line from yesterday.
I see this woman exit an apartment through the white flurries. I don’t normally listen to people as I whiz by but today there was something different.
“Hi Cliff” she calls out.
Not knowing anyone in this neighborhood and not recognizing her from afar and concentrating on my pathway, I turned my head and said “Hi”.
She laughed, as I didn’t stop for I was already in rhythm and stopping at that pace would have probably thrown me over the handlebars and done some damage to my noggin.
I finished my route and chores and returned home on a different route but the brief incident kept me wondering. “Who was that?”
I didn’t recognize the voice. I did notice nice legs. A brunette in a long black bubble wrap coat like you wear in the dead of winter had called me out. Well it was snowing.
And she called my name. Normally if mistaken identity it would be a “Bob” or “Tom” or “Igor” but my name usually isn’t on the first page of the list. Maybe she was on the phone with a doppelganger that was impersonating me?
Maybe there are posters around the neighborhood with my picture and name on them telling parents to keep their daughters away from this old white haired guy on a bike? He is not Santa Claus. I only thought Fred had those on his ice-cream truck.
Either way it did get my attention. These events are what make life interesting.
Tomorrow I will travel the same route at about the same time and whoever she was won’t be there.
So if you happen to read this, forgive me for being rude and riding off. I did acknowledge hearing you but couldn’t immediately place the voice or face. Leave a comment if you read this but do sign it ‘anonymous’. Keep the mystery going.