A Love Story, Part 1 (Lucille)

The trips back and forth to the office and the girlfriend’s workplace weren’t enough. She still longed to dance in empty lots and parking garages. She reminded you to take advantage of the weather, “I know it’s kind of chilly, but suck it up.” I gave in and took you to the empty parking lot across the street. I didn’t wear a helmet and I had my headphones in, two things that I make sure do and don’t happen when I’m riding the city. I just figured it would be a quick trip out. We tried new moves and then figured out how to do them better. We pulled things off that we didn’t even mean to but made it look so easy. I would laugh out loud when this would happen and you would just stroll along like you knew we could do it perfectly every time. The Doors Best Of played in the background of our routine. Morrison’s voice and the band’s sounds made the world melt away until it was just us there.

The sun went down and the chill really did set in then. You, however still were not done. I took you through an alley where we ended up in front of New Balance. We entered a trackstand, pedaled backwards making a half-circle and then rode away. Our form and balance had been perfect. I looked around to see if anyone had seen us in the dark. Not a soul, it was a moment that is only ours. From there I took you to a covered parking garage where we wove our ways through pillars and empty parking spots. The Doors and our actions were timed impeccably. We left and went to another lot where I insisted we practiced our trackstands yet again. Then we went downtown. I took us to Este where my longing for those miniature, delicious cinnamon-sugar pillows of joy was denied. Due to lack of grabbing my wallet as I rushed us out the door of my apartment earlier. From there we went to Broadway and climbed a parking garage to the top. Only about 6 stories, Ray Manzerek’s organ spiraled along with us all the way to the top and as the night sky broke into view the organ’s crescendo was finished and we were offered a moment to relax as we made our way to the edge of the building to watch the street below. People sat a bar across the street as cyclists uneasily passed over the tracks on Main Street. Only a few cars drove around, traffic had been very minimal this night, for which we were both thankful. We didn’t stay long and made our way down the parking garage onto a brick street. The road rumbled beneath us. We broke onto a cross street, took a left through an intersection, pedaled hard up a street after another left until we ended in an alley headed towards another parking garage. Where once again, the tricks we were pulling off, were making me laugh.

The End began to play in my ears. I checked my phone and realized it was actually getting late. I took you through more alleys and streets until we ended up on 300 E. headed north. The light at 100 S. was red, so we took this moment to rest. Well, for me to rest. The next block was a climb. Something we both don’t enjoy. I hate the burn, and you make funny pings and ticks on any hill we decide to take on. It makes me nervous. The light turned green and I put my feet into straps and began to pedal. We did it smart. We didn’t rush ourselves, we were steady. We let trippy sitars and ambiance distract us. We were at the top of the hill before I knew it and onto South Temple headed home.