Pink Bikes and Pretty Girls
Matt was still in Malibu getting his nuts examined. The kid and I took off down the PCH not knowing where we were going, where we were sleeping that night, or if we would ever see our friend again. We rode south through the teeming hordes of sun bleached surfers and spandex clad bikers of Venice Beach in search of our place in the sun.
I wanted to ride straight through Los Angeles - its streets clogged with canary yellow Hummers and Botox injected Paris Hiltonites displaying miniscule canine accessories as if they were Prada hand bags - but the fates decided otherwise. Weaving through the madness of Venice looking for a hostel that may or may not have beds for us - it turned out my brother's writer buddy in Hollywood moved back to Cleveland and we wouldn't have a place to crash in town - we passed two pretty girls on bubble gum pink cruisers.
"That's a slick ride you have there" I said with a smile, as the Saskatoon Kid and I bobbed and weaved our way past the two. Little did I know at the time that such a fleeting exchange would so enrich my life. Just before reaching the Vencie Beach Hostel I looked back to see the Kid grinning ear to ear as he leaned against his overloaded touring bike chatting it up with the two beautiful girls we passed just moments before.
To be continued...
I wanted to ride straight through Los Angeles - its streets clogged with canary yellow Hummers and Botox injected Paris Hiltonites displaying miniscule canine accessories as if they were Prada hand bags - but the fates decided otherwise. Weaving through the madness of Venice looking for a hostel that may or may not have beds for us - it turned out my brother's writer buddy in Hollywood moved back to Cleveland and we wouldn't have a place to crash in town - we passed two pretty girls on bubble gum pink cruisers.
"That's a slick ride you have there" I said with a smile, as the Saskatoon Kid and I bobbed and weaved our way past the two. Little did I know at the time that such a fleeting exchange would so enrich my life. Just before reaching the Vencie Beach Hostel I looked back to see the Kid grinning ear to ear as he leaned against his overloaded touring bike chatting it up with the two beautiful girls we passed just moments before.
To be continued...
posted by Yonder Vittles at 11:09 PM
3 Comments:
Damn it Aaron!
Throughout the duration of our friendship I have tolerated all of the ranting that you have dubbed “creative non-fiction”, but now, you're just making shit up.
Otherwise, fantastic update.
Take care and enjoy that California sun.
Your pal,
Zach
Zach,
Making shit up he says. All "creative non-fiction" huh? I suppose you are going to say the little alpaca guiding me through the desert is not real too? Yee of little faith.
Dear Zach, I feel obligated to tell you that the story above is real! I am one of the pretty girls and can attest to the truth of the post in question. in fact, after that exchange the boy, erica and myself spent two lovely days and nights together that will not soon be forgotten! the only creative part of this non-fiction is that only one of us was riding a pink bike; mine was white and burgundy. but it was bad-ass. a beach cruiser with gears!
christine
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