Otherwise entitled:  Anthropomorphize much?

I gingerly wheeled Bike out the back entrance, considered my route, hooked the lock over one handle and my bag over the other.  I started off weakly, with an awkward leg thrown over the back wheel, my girly self unused to the frame of a boy's bike.  I heard Bike snicker and very nearly dismiss me right away but, hungry for the road, Bike allowed us to set out for home. 

As with any first date, Bike and I were nervous.  I was anxious about the traffic, Bike was unused to such a cautious rider.  I could feel Bike's frustration growing as we slowly rode block by block to the lakefront path.  Finally, we were there and away from the rush hour traffic of the Loop I began to really ride Bike for the first time. 

Bike is a wild, insatiable, road-hungry beast.  Let's just get that right out into the open.  I picked up speed and I felt Bike grin wickedly.  Each person I passed, Bike cackled.  Every inferior bike winced in shame as Bike flew by shouting, Cannondale, bitches!  Then, it got uglier.  One biker passed me.  I felt Bike growl beneath me and I was overcome with the need to GOFASTERGOFASTERGOFASTER.  We passed the biker.  Then we passed the next one.  Then the next one.  My legs protested, my lungs began to expand to ten times their normal size.  Fuck you,  Bike screamed into the wind, my grandma rides faster than you! We passed another.  I started enjoying taking the turns fast, feeling Bike and I lean into it together.  I ignored the protests of my body and pedalled faster still.  Bike smiled.

My god, I thought to myself, this bike really is worth the money Mister Six paid for it.  I channeled every single ounce of frustration I had in me into Bike and felt it chewed up and spit out like the rest of the road.  Soon I was shrieking madly  into the wind, on your left!  And we hurtled comet-like down the lakefront. 

I rode further on the path than I needed to, because neither Bike or I were ready to stop.  Finally, I came up onto the street into a traffic jam.  Teeth bared, I could sense Bike's agitation and I hopped up over the curb, cut across part of the sidewalk and back onto the road, skirting the cars.  Bike had inspired my outlaw tendencies.  As I pulled up to my apartment building I realized I had begun to understand things I hadn't previously.  Like craving speed, racing, people like Lance Armstrong, and the way boys will occasionally drop a massive amount of money on something I would consider unnecessary.  I'm sorry Bike, I thought to myself as I slowed down, I had no idea.  Bike was pleased with the ride, but not unwilling to teach me one last lesson as I dismounted. 

Don't wear slip on sneakers when you ride ME, Bike shouted, and with that, hooked my sneaker off and sent it flying across the entrance way.  I humbly gathered my footwear, and respectfully carried Bike upstairs the three flights, and finally, home.