Today has been a good day. It’s the last day of work before the holiday and this is the Winemaking/Lab department’s “Christmas Party”, so everyone brings in a dish to pass and it is an all day feeding frenzy while we work. People from all of the other departments come up to the lab and grab food, everyone is in a good mood and smiling. There is good natured joking and holiday spirit fills the air, it really reminds me of all of the holiday parties that you used to see on those cheesy sitcoms. You know the ones, they are warm hearted and Steve Urkel comes on the screen does something idiotic and wishes you a Merry Christmas, it’s about that level, it’s not a real cool one like the John McClain Nakatomi Plaza Die Hard Christmas party, but anyway I digress.
So everyone is having a good time and in the merriment a guy I work with says, “Hey, tell the bicycle story!”. A few years ago I was joking around and being my normal wise ass self and I let slip my bicycle story, probably not the best story to tell at work, but hey it’s really not that bad. So here we go:
***Small disclaimer- This story isn’t as funny as it could be if you can’t see all of the hand motions and inflection in my voice, not that I’m a comedian or anything but you know what I mean.
It was my senior year of college, I was living in my own apartment in downtown Canandaigua. Well, there is a great little pub, well it used to be a great little pub I haven’t been there in many years, in Canandaigua called The Pickering Pub. Now the Pickering had a great deal on Wednesday nights, it was $1 drafts all night long. So you could go and get drunk on ten bucks, it was awesome. Now I lived all the way at the south end of Main St. and The Pickering Pub was about halfway up Main St., and there were a good many cops in between me and the pub so I didn’t want to drive. I was too lazy to walk so I had to come up with something else, and then it hit me. My neighbor had a bike, I could borrow that and ride up and back and everything is right with the world.
So I pound on my neighbor’s wall and get his blessing to borrow his bike. I’m golden now, I’m off and riding up to the pub. So I sit at the pub and have a few rounds with my friends and next thing I know it’s last call. So I’m a little tipsy, but I know I’m not driving, so I’m smiling. I go out unlatch the 10 speed cruiser and I’m off and rolling. I’m riding on the sidewalk, being careful to stay out of the road, but I’m happy and smiling so I start weaving a little bit, then a little more, then finally I’m doing big S’s on the sidewalk. It’s 2 AM, so there is no one out walking the sidewalk is mine, so what the hell, right?
I continue riding and I’m thinking about all of the fun conversations I’ve had and I hear sirens back up the street behind me. I’m thinking probably some dope is getting a DWI and I keep riding. Now the siren is getting louder and louder and I see the flashing lights, but hey I’m on a bike, they’re not stopping me. Then I feel a spotlight on my back, and I hear over a bull horn:
HEY, you on the bike, pull over!
What, you have to be kidding me, so I keep riding.
Hey You on the bike pull over!
I look behind me and sure enough they are talking to me, so I push the brakes and stand there on the bike until the cop comes up to me. Then I look him right in the eye and say in my best drunkenese “Can I help you Occifer?”, Yep, that’s right I called him Occifer.
Now he’s pissed, and he starts to ask for my license AND registration before he catches himself and just asks for my license. Of course, I’m not helping matters by laughing at him and offering him my library card as my registration.
So now I get the riot act, How many drinks have you had? Where are you coming from? Where are you going? What would happen if you rode out into traffic? Blah, blah, blah. Finally I’ve had enough and I ask him are you going to charge me for riding my bicycle with NO motor? I hear his partner snickering from the side of the patrol car, now he gets even more pissed and tells me that he’s not charging me but I have to get off the bike and walk it the rest of the way home. I politely give him my best “Thank you Occifer, you have a nice night Occifer” and he shoves my license and library card back into my hands and heads back to the car, the whole time I can still hear his partner laughing at how pissed he is.
So he gets back into the patrol car and sits there and waits for me, I get off the bike and start walking beside it. I get about half a block away and I hear him start up his car and then in an instant I see him drive by me giving me the stink eye the whole way. I wait for him to get out of sight, then I’m back on my bike, making big loopy sidewalk S’s the whole way home.
So that’s the bicycle story. Since I shared it once I figured what the hell I would share it with you. Everybody loves a good drunk story, right?
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