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I have a pretty big crush on my bike. It’s a sky blue vintage road bike from
the 80’s in great condition that I bought from this super shadeball store near Howard University called The Goldfactory. The bike is probably stolen. Should I care? Probably. Do I care? Nope. Karma may bite me in the ass for this
one, but it was a great find.

Biking in my opinion is the best way to get around DC for a few reasons:
1. Because as anyone who has ever tried to drive here knows, D.C. is convoluted and full of confusing traffic circles. Not to mention we’re in a heated race with LA for the worst traffic in the U.S. Blah.

2. Because even though our metro system is awesome, there are quite a few places it doesn’t go, partly due to zoning laws protecting historic areas.

3. Because we have a mild climate that allows for biking all year
round. People have tried to convince me that Minneapolis is a great city for biking. F-ck that. I’ve lived in Minneapolis, it’s f-cking freezing, why on earth
would you bike there in the winter?

4. Because we have a great bike share program that has 110 stations around the city, many of which happen to be conveniently located near the best bar areas. (Yes, Bostonites, I know your program is ranked #1 but we’re still in the top 5), which brings me to my story.

Last Friday I hopped on my Univega and my friend Kris hopped a bike
share, and we made our way to some of the local bars. Kris convinced me that I had to go to Town’s Bear happy hour for the $7 pitchers of Shocktop. I was surprised to find that Town , a very dancy gay club, was crowded by 8 p.m. Not only crowded, but packed full of big burly men.

For those of you not familiar with the term, “Bear”  is a gay man of a
rather larger, more rugged variety. Being a straight girl, I don’t know a lot about Bears, but the few I know are of the NYC variety, and sorry, D.C., but you’re still a bit on the preppy side. Much of the crowd was clean shaven and wearing button downs, albeit missing the typical skinny waifs you normally see at a dance boutique.

I was one of only two women in the entire club, which left me
feeling awkward and unwelcome, that is, until I got my pitcher of beer.
They don’t bother with glasses, you see; as the pitcher seems to count as an individual drink, I had a whole one to myself. My surrounding entourage were all over 6′, and with my oversized beer, I felt a bit like Alice in Wonderland after she shrinks and everything around her is huge. After drinking 1/3 of the pitcher, giving 1/3 to Kris, and spilling 1/3 of the pitcher, which lead to murderous looks from the crowd, we decided it was time to move on. Back on my road bike and onto the next adventure…

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