Get Your Fine Whine Here: Peevot Noir

I’m starting a new series. It’ll be about bike related things that really bug me. It’s called Peeves – kinda like that exercise place called Curves, only much, much better. You have a tough day on the bike, you feel like you should be getting the Nobel Prize for Enduring Foolishness, you just come right on over and visit someone who’s likely to have all the same complaints you do. You tell your friends you’re going on over to Peeves to work it out. On a bad day, a good gripe can do you even more good than exercising.

I’ll call each one “Peeve Number [something]” so you can easily find them in the archives for those times when you really want to wallow. Don’t be shy – go ahead and read several at one sitting. Know that there’s someone out there whining in your behalf. And of course, feel free to join in!

I’ll start with number 101 so that the numbers will start to sound impressive right away -- like when people open a checking account and don’t want to look like they’ve only had a checking account for ten minutes so they have the checks printed up to start with a high number. I wouldn’t want anybody to think that I’ve only been complaining for ten minutes when in fact it’s one of my most highly developed skills.

Notice I’m not calling it “pet peeves” as some would expect. That would imply a degree of affection for these annoyances, which I don’t feel. Here’s the first one.

“Car drivers who politely motion you forward into the path of certain death.”

Will be posting that in the next couple of days. Meanwhile, after much pacing and wringing of hands, I’ve decided to go ahead and provide the controversial photo at the bottom of the last posting about the seriously endangered plastic horse. (give me a few minutes.) Don’t feel obliged to scroll down and view it. Remember, it’s only for the tough-as-nails. Emergncy Room staff, and the like.