While walking downtown for a loaf of bread, life's nagging question again
appeared in flashing neon form against the cloudy gray backdrop of my brain:
Can you fit a bike in the new Mini Cooper?
And then, just as I blocked the sign from my head, what would appear but a
brand new Mini Cooper, fresh from the dealership in Pleasanton, which had
parallel parked directly next to where I was walking. A small crowd of three
had gathered, whilst the car's proud new owner opened up various doors for our
inspection, and bragged of the car's misleading speed. Now was my chance. I
simply need to know: can you fit a bike in a Mini? I received a complete tour
of the car, inside and out. I must say, with creative seat placement, I think
it's possible.
Meanwhile, a much older gawking gentleman gafawed at my questions.
And then I asked, "Now, is this Cooper, or the Cooper S?"
The older gawker interjected, "Cooper S?! What's that, the car for GIRLS? He
elbowed his buddy."
"You bet. It's got more horsepower."
He snorted and belched, and said, "Now, what're YOU gonna do with THAT?"
"Well, race it probably." An exaggeration, but I like messing with people's
minds.
"So YOU are going to go take this where, what's it called, up to Santa Rosa?
What's the track called? Penney's Point?"
"You mean Sears Point?"
Okay, I made up the very last sentence, but the rest really happened. The
fellow who actually owns the car immediately recognized me as someone who might
actually almost know what she's talking about, and answered more of my
questions with great enthusiasm, and, better yet, completely ignored the
gawker. One small step for woman kind, one near kick in the groin for the
gawker.
Too bad I'm so poor, though. Lucy needs a playmate. But no, Mother, don't
worry. Two bikes and a Miata are MORE than enough!
Two laps of breaststroke today, and I climbed out of the pool with one arm, a
big jump, and NO ladder.
Katie K.
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