A Short Story: Part One

Once upon a time, in a land not so far from the bike shop there was a shopping center. In this bustling hub of local commerce one could ship a package, visit the local apothecary, and grab a coffee or a bite to eat. It was here that the adult-sized school children would gather, wobbly-legged and drunken to restock their dwindling supply of spirits after watching their beloved football team be handily defeated. When school was in session the children, separated from the comforts of their home, had only their parents money to cling to. With a new found sense of bewilderment at the big and scary world around them, they had (many for the first time) become responsible to forage for themselves. They ventured out on the arduous journey of more than a quarter-mile desperate to find ruffage and in the form of boxed lunches, craft beer, and coffee in the Land of Martin's.

Quickly they realized that the journey would have to take place at least twice a fortnight in order to sustain life. This proved challenging for the youngsters as they found the the very idea of choosing the Shoelace Express physically and mentally exhausting. Carrying their newly begotten booty was truly vexing without the use of their parents BMW. So what then were they to do?

"I've got it!" One exclaimed. As though he were the first to think of this, boldly he would go to find himself a bicycle. Surely two wheels were less than four but they were certainly more than none, and that was good enough for him. "But where can I purchase a bicycle?" he asked The Google. To which The Google replied with answers a plenty. Many of his options were from online stores which required One to wait a whole TWO DAYS before his bicycle would be delivered. In One's experience it must be with instant gratification that his needs be met, as anything less is simply not acceptable. Eager to fulfill these needs he set off on a journey to find the bike shop which was nearest him, not because it was the best place to get what he wanted, but simply its proximity to him which would surely require the least amount of physical effort. As with the One's before him, he was met with surprise at the prices of modern day bicycles. Shopping only on price with no forethought as to it's utility, One was astonished to see that even an entry level bicycle could cost as much as $400!
"Do you have any used bikes?" One quickly asks. Alas, the answer being "no," he said, "let me call my mom." Needless to say, it was then that One was forced to set his sights on the horizon, beyond the road called Grape, to the land of a Mart called Wal. The voyage was long but might hopefully prove worth it.
 

It was in this land where bicycle shaped objects were gathered together like sheep just waiting for slaughter. Sold hand over fist by those inept at educating the user in an attempt to gain revenue only with not an inkling towards gaining the customer's loyalty. Products of inferior quality, assembled poorly by hands unqualified. Doomed to a life outside on a campus where bicycles go to die.

"But the price is right! That's good enough for me."

With that, the boy laid down his parents credit card and paid a hefty ransom of $125 before set off once more the journey back home with that ever smug, shit eating grin on his face. Full well confident in knowing that the bike shop was trying to rip him off, he let his sense of entitlement guide him the whole way. It was with irony however, that the bike shop lay betwixt the Lands of Martins and Wal. As One's bicycle failed in spectacular fashion. 

Perhaps One would need a bike shop after all...

To be continued…