look Ma... no hands!

I am twenty-five years old and cannot ride a bike. Never learned to. Don't even recall ever being on a bike with training wheels even. I think my first time on a bike was on an exercise bike in college. My mom (rightfully so is what I can now admit) never let me hang out with the "up to no good" kids on the block.

This was my secret for a long time. Then I slowly started telling a few people here or there who I thought maybe wouldn't laugh at me. Most times I was successful. I even told Kevin who has a knack for brutally laughing at my expense, at all times.

I can't ride just yet but I did have my first bike ride ever last night. After weeks of harrassment, I finally gave into letting Kevin give me a lesson but on my terms. Late at night with no one around on a desolate street. I didn't think Kevin would find such a street in Brooklyn but long behold, he did.

A police patrol was nice enough to stop us and ask if we were okay. Gotta love the NYPD. We were in Crown Heights, I guess I should just be happy that they didn't shoot us. I was so embarrassed, got over it, and unsuccessfully tried to both pedal and keep my balance at the same time.

I hit one parked car after the very first time I actually rode the bike in a steady line. Kevin yelling out "Yeah, Nomad. Go Nomad! Look at you! You're doing it!" broke my concentration. I saw the SUV and at my speed, I'm sure it saw me but I didn't know how to stop. We didn't get to that part of the lesson till later.