There is absolutely no reason to want to be in the office today; the best I can hope for is unpleasant. I don’t want to think about the worst. So I choose the long way in, adding a half an hour to my usual fifteen-minute commute.
My fifteen minute blast would practically guarantee me the opportunity to kiss triple digits were I so inclined; even on a slow morning I will add a healthy bonus to the posted limit. But this morning I don’t want that particular experience. I take the long way, the slow way, the bended way. Before I hit the clotted sludge of drone cages, I have the chance to paste a shit-eating grin on my soul that even the worst of today won’t be able to erase.
Long straightaway. Roll on; roll off; drop into neutral. Hands off the bars, sit up straight and relax. Glide for half a mile, dropping into a long sweeping right-hander, then sharply downhill into a tightening lefthander. Still no hands. Rear brake only, finally concede a left hand onto the bar to force it deep into the turn.
Rocking at the light, second in line. Left arrow, fast undulating uphill—grateful to be behind someone who understands and is also enjoying the ride. They peel right and take the first exit, accelerating into their turn; I roll on straight ahead, target the wallowing bloated black behemoth of an SUV plodding across the lane between me and my exit. In front is better than behind. I blow past them in the blink of an eye.
The fun begins: tight decreasing radius downhill right-hander onto the parkway. I remember about hanging, shift my weight into the turn, accelerate. Look over my shoulder at the oncoming vehicle; locking eyes with the driver. In front is better than behind. Right wrist, straighten out the turn, shift across the saddle the other way, and uncoil the right-hander into a long left-hand sweeper. The car disappears in my rear views. Hoo-eee...am I the only one enjoying the trip to the office today?