Retire Those Shorts

June 19, 2004 AM/Portola Valley

It was a beautiful day today. The sun was warm but the air was cool. It was one of those days that you head out with the intention of getting a quick spin in, but wind up extending the ride in every possible minor way you can think of and rolling home an hour late.

But a funny thing happened to me on my ride. While I was on the back side of Portola Valley, a triathlete passed me, stretched out on the aerobars. When I looked up I wound up staring right down his bungholio. That's how worn out and see-through his shorts were. Crack-o-plenty.

"Oh my GOD! Dude!"

That just came out of me of its own volition. Perhaps a bit too loudly. I had no idea who he was, but I just had to tell this guy to retire those shorts. Someone had to tell him. But unfortunately he misinterpreted my outburst, just as I was getting up out of the saddle to catch him and clue him in, he glanced back and flipped me off. Imagine that?

Ok then. I guess it'll be someone else who tells you to retire those shorts. I sat back down on my saddle and settled back into my leisurely pace. I have to admit, I giggled as I watched him pass the woman up the road a bit. I wish I could have seen her face.