Cry me a river

Dave Stallard said:

I was coming back from my weekly century Saturday. Ride out to
Wachusett Res., a loop around, and then back to Cambridge, finishing on
the Minuteman Bikepath. Got a late start, then had ice cream in
Lexington, so it was dark. I didn't have my light, because it doesn't
fit well on the bars with my handlebar bag, where I keep my folding
spare for longer trips.

I was moving slowly because I knew there were car-blocking stanchions in
the middle of the path at a certain point. Finally, I spotted them,
and moved ahead. I saw a couple standing off to the side, almost as if
waiting for me to pass. I pass them, and then the woman calls out
plaintively, "Do you know how to fix the gear on a bike?".

"Fix the *gear* on a bike?" I repeated. "What do you mean?". I ain't
got no freewheel remover on board, lady.

"I had an accident. The chain came off" she said "and now the wheel
won't turn". I knew I was in for it now.

"On the front or the back?". The question seemed to throw her a bit,
then she said it was the front.

"OK,", I replied. "Just pull it back on!".

"I *tried*, but I couldn't. Will you help me - sir .. please?", she
answerer. Her last plea ended in a teeny whine.

Now, I do not like getting bike chain grease on my hands. It is filthy.
It is vile. It sticks to things. I *especially* do not like getting
it on my hands on behalf of a grown adult whom I don't know, and who
should be able to do it for herself. And whom I already didn't much
care for.

"I had an accident. I hit those poles and flew up in the air". she went
on. "I got caught out after nightfall. I have a long way to go in the
dark back to Cambridge". (7 miles, gentle downhill). "I'm very badly
hurt".

No, lady, being very badly hurt means you have to go to the hospital and
your condition is listed as "serious". I told her to hold the bike,
and took a look. In fairness to her, it was jammed in there, and it was
hard to see where it was caught in the dark. Meanwhile, she's on the
cellphone to friends, "Bob and Carol, I'm out here on the bikepath. I've
had an accident. And I'm a miserable unmarried 40-something female".
(OK, I made that last one up). She was getting only voicemail. The
bike was tipping over. I yelled at her to hold the bike steady.

Meanwhile, her presumed companion turned out to be only a passerby who
was lending her his cell phone. Seeing her in good hands (and probably
as sick of her as I was), he moved on. I took another grip on the
chain, and it popped out. I put it back on the chainwheel, told her to
lift the bike, and then spun the pedals. The back wheel turned. Good
to go.

"Will it work now?", she asked. "Yes," I said. "Oh thank you, sir". I
just rubbed my greasy hands in the sand, stood up, and mumbled something
like "You're welcome". She headed off, pedaling in the 45 rpm cadence
common to her species, her very serious injuries apparently posing no
hindrance. I got my bike, got on, and headed out behind her.

Now, though, it seemed as though I had been converted from Good
Samaritan to Unknown Male Coming Up Behind Her in the Dark. She seemed
fearful, somehow. I just wanted to pass her. I strained ahead,
making sure the opposite lane didn't have anything oncoming. I didn't
want to stay in that lane too long, for sure. Just as I was opposite,
she drifted right! "Look out!" I yelled at her (again). Then I picked
up speed and headed for home.

Dave

Your replies to her and your actions have forever ingrained a picture in
her brain............... other bicycle riders are [censored].
Your should have been nice and politely fixed her bike for her. Instead
you came across like a snob.
Thanks for making the rest of us fellow cyclist appear to be the same.

"The Martins" <[email hidden]> wrote in message
news:[email hidden]...

Quoted message said:

Dave Stallard said:

I was coming back from my weekly century Saturday. Ride out to Wachusett
Res., a loop around, and then back to Cambridge, finishing on the
Minuteman Bikepath. Got a late start, then had ice cream in Lexington,
so it was dark. I didn't have my light, because it doesn't fit well on
the bars with my handlebar bag, where I keep my folding spare for longer
trips.

I was moving slowly because I knew there were car-blocking stanchions in
the middle of the path at a certain point. Finally, I spotted them, and
moved ahead. I saw a couple standing off to the side, almost as if
waiting for me to pass. I pass them, and then the woman calls out
plaintively, "Do you know how to fix the gear on a bike?".

"Fix the *gear* on a bike?" I repeated. "What do you mean?". I ain't
got no freewheel remover on board, lady.

"I had an accident. The chain came off" she said "and now the wheel
won't turn". I knew I was in for it now.

"On the front or the back?". The question seemed to throw her a bit,
then she said it was the front.

"OK,", I replied. "Just pull it back on!".

"I *tried*, but I couldn't. Will you help me - sir .. please?", she
answerer. Her last plea ended in a teeny whine.

Now, I do not like getting bike chain grease on my hands. It is filthy.
It is vile. It sticks to things. I *especially* do not like getting it
on my hands on behalf of a grown adult whom I don't know, and who should
be able to do it for herself. And whom I already didn't much care for.

"I had an accident. I hit those poles and flew up in the air". she went
on. "I got caught out after nightfall. I have a long way to go in the
dark back to Cambridge". (7 miles, gentle downhill). "I'm very badly
hurt".

No, lady, being very badly hurt means you have to go to the hospital and
your condition is listed as "serious". I told her to hold the bike, and
took a look. In fairness to her, it was jammed in there, and it was hard
to see where it was caught in the dark. Meanwhile, she's on the
cellphone to friends, "Bob and Carol, I'm out here on the bikepath. I've
had an accident. And I'm a miserable unmarried 40-something female".
(OK, I made that last one up). She was getting only voicemail. The bike
was tipping over. I yelled at her to hold the bike steady.

Meanwhile, her presumed companion turned out to be only a passerby who
was lending her his cell phone. Seeing her in good hands (and probably
as sick of her as I was), he moved on. I took another grip on the
chain, and it popped out. I put it back on the chainwheel, told her to
lift the bike, and then spun the pedals. The back wheel turned. Good
to go.

"Will it work now?", she asked. "Yes," I said. "Oh thank you, sir". I
just rubbed my greasy hands in the sand, stood up, and mumbled something
like "You're welcome". She headed off, pedaling in the 45 rpm cadence
common to her species, her very serious injuries apparently posing no
hindrance. I got my bike, got on, and headed out behind her.

Now, though, it seemed as though I had been converted from Good Samaritan
to Unknown Male Coming Up Behind Her in the Dark. She seemed fearful,
somehow. I just wanted to pass her. I strained ahead, making sure the
opposite lane didn't have anything oncoming. I didn't want to stay in
that lane too long, for sure. Just as I was opposite, she drifted
right! "Look out!" I yelled at her (again). Then I picked up speed and
headed for home.

Dave

Your replies to her and your actions have forever ingrained a picture in
her brain............... other bicycle riders are [censored].
Your should have been nice and politely fixed her bike for her. Instead
you came across like a snob.
Thanks for making the rest of us fellow cyclist appear to be the same.

Granted, Dave was in less than a good mood, after riding a century AND
getting stuck after dark and all. That being said, whatever happened to
chivalry? You always stop to help a lady in distress. If she's hot that's
bonus points. :-)

The Martins said:

Your replies to her and your actions have forever ingrained a picture in
her brain............... other bicycle riders are [censored].
Your should have been nice and politely fixed her bike for her. Instead
you came across like a snob.

Seems to me he was nice and did fix her bike.

An [censored] whould have just pushed her over and went on by. And maybe
rode over her foot or something. Yea. And spit on her. Twice.

Rich

The Martins said:

Your replies to her and your actions have forever ingrained a picture in
her brain............... other bicycle riders are [censored]. Your should
have been nice and politely fixed her bike for her. Instead you came
across like a snob.
Thanks for making the rest of us fellow cyclist appear to be the same.

I agree for the most part. I think the woman was playing the victim a bit
hard, but she probably didn't know what to do either. Some men find that a
bit flirtatious, some find it grating..."ohh, poor little me..." LOL

Whenever I fix a bike roadside for a noobie, I jokingly but with a grain
of seriousness say: "pay attention, you're doing this yourself next time."
Then I describe what I'm doing, whether it be fixing a rubbing brake or
patching a tire to make sure they know how to do it. People are almost
always really into learning, and hell-it's good for my ego too.

Most often it's flats and folks are unprepared---I gently say something
like "REI's got these awesome little pumps for $12 this week..." People
generally are impressed that you can fix stuff with such little. I only
carry a flat kit, 8 & 10mm box wrenches, 5 zip ties, and folding allen
wrenches--never needed anything more.

Homeless dudes with flats get them fixed with no lecture at all, they got
bigger stuff to worry about.

"Dave Stallard" <[email hidden]> wrote in message
news:[email hidden]...

Quoted message said:

In fairness to her, it was jammed in there, and it was
hard to see where it was caught in the dark.

Seems like you're whining at least as much as she did. Her display of
incompetence with a bicycle seems to be matched by your lack of compassion.

"Rich" wrote: (clip) An [censored] whould have just pushed her over and went
on by. And maybe rode over her foot or something. Yea. And spit on her.
Twice.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Nothing personal, Rich, but why are you raising the bar so high? Is it so
you won't feel like an [censored] yourself?

Gooserider said:

Granted, Dave was in less than a good mood, after riding a century AND
getting stuck after dark and all. That being said, whatever happened to
chivalry? You always stop to help a lady in distress. If she's hot that's
bonus points. :-)

Dave was late returning from his *weekly* century because he started
late and dawdled over ice cream. If he rides a century every week, I
think it's fair to say he knows how long it takes him. That he was
stuck after dark without lights was his own fault.
The entire tone of his tale suggests to me that he thinks being
obnoxious and yelling at people that are already upset is somehow
better than being whiny. It's not better, just different.

Regards,
Bob Hunt

Dave Stallard said:

I was coming back from my weekly century Saturday. Ride out to
Wachusett Res., a loop around, and then back to Cambridge, finishing
on the Minuteman Bikepath. Got a late start, then had ice cream in
Lexington, so it was dark. I didn't have my light, because it
doesn't fit well on the bars with my handlebar bag, where I keep my
folding spare for longer trips.

I was moving slowly because I knew there were car-blocking stanchions
in the middle of the path at a certain point. Finally, I spotted
them, and moved ahead. I saw a couple standing off to the side,
almost as if waiting for me to pass. I pass them, and then the woman
calls out plaintively, "Do you know how to fix the gear on a bike?".

"Fix the *gear* on a bike?" I repeated. "What do you mean?". I ain't
got no freewheel remover on board, lady.

"I had an accident. The chain came off" she said "and now the wheel
won't turn". I knew I was in for it now.

"On the front or the back?". The question seemed to throw her a bit,
then she said it was the front.

"OK,", I replied. "Just pull it back on!".

"I *tried*, but I couldn't. Will you help me - sir .. please?", she
answerer. Her last plea ended in a teeny whine.

Now, I do not like getting bike chain grease on my hands. It is
filthy. It is vile. It sticks to things. I *especially* do not
like getting it on my hands on behalf of a grown adult whom I don't
know, and who should be able to do it for herself. And whom I
already didn't much care for.

"I had an accident. I hit those poles and flew up in the air". she
went on. "I got caught out after nightfall. I have a long way to go
in the dark back to Cambridge". (7 miles, gentle downhill). "I'm
very badly hurt".

No, lady, being very badly hurt means you have to go to the hospital
and your condition is listed as "serious". I told her to hold the
bike, and took a look. In fairness to her, it was jammed in there,
and it was hard to see where it was caught in the dark. Meanwhile,
she's on the cellphone to friends, "Bob and Carol, I'm out here on
the bikepath. I've had an accident. And I'm a miserable unmarried
40-something female". (OK, I made that last one up). She was getting
only voicemail. The bike was tipping over. I yelled at her to hold
the bike steady.
Meanwhile, her presumed companion turned out to be only a passerby who
was lending her his cell phone. Seeing her in good hands (and
probably as sick of her as I was), he moved on. I took another
grip on the chain, and it popped out. I put it back on the
chainwheel, told her to lift the bike, and then spun the pedals. The
back wheel turned. Good to go.

"Will it work now?", she asked. "Yes," I said. "Oh thank you, sir".
I just rubbed my greasy hands in the sand, stood up, and mumbled
something like "You're welcome". She headed off, pedaling in the 45
rpm cadence common to her species, her very serious injuries
apparently posing no hindrance. I got my bike, got on, and headed
out behind her.
Now, though, it seemed as though I had been converted from Good
Samaritan to Unknown Male Coming Up Behind Her in the Dark. She
seemed fearful, somehow. I just wanted to pass her. I strained
ahead, making sure the opposite lane didn't have anything oncoming. I
didn't want to stay in that lane too long, for sure. Just as I
was opposite, she drifted right! "Look out!" I yelled at her
(again). Then I picked up speed and headed for home.

Sure is pathetic...THAT YOU WORRY ABOUT GETTING A LITTLE CHAIN GRIME ON YOUR
HANDS! Boo frickin' hoo indeed.

The poor lady was stranded after dark with a bike that wouldn't work, and
had also taken a fall. Of course she was scared and emotional. A little
compassion and encouragement would have gone a long way, but instead you
"yelled" at her a few times and basically made her feel even worse. Way to
go.

BS

The Martins said:

Your replies to her and your actions have forever ingrained a picture in
her brain............... other bicycle riders are [censored].
Your should have been nice and politely fixed her bike for her. Instead
you came across like a snob.
Thanks for making the rest of us fellow cyclist appear to be the same.

An [censored] - and there are plenty of them - would have ridden away and
refused to help. I fixed her bike for her, didn't I? I only yelled at
her once, when she almost crashed into me (the first time was more of a
"spoke sharply"😉. And I thoughtfully trim attributions in my Usenet posts.

I'm happy to help people who help themselves, or to show them how to do
stuff. She's probably the third person I've helped on that route,
including giving them tubes and whatnot. Guess you had to be there, but
what [censored] me off about her was:

1) She wouldn't grab her *own* chain and pull it out, even though I was
offering to show her how.

2) She didn't help me by holding the bike. She wasn't paying any
attention; she was trying to reach her friends, as if they were somehow
going to help her, instead of the person who actually was helping her.
Nor was she interested in learning how to fix her bike herself.

3) She was oozing self-pity and dependence, and that is never
attractive. If worst came to worst, she would have had to push her bike
300 yards to a well-lit town center with sidewalk cafes and plenty of
people. No cause for a meltdown.

4) I just hate that style of emotional blackmail.

Dave

Dave Stallard <[email hidden]> wrote:

Duuuude --- guy foul!

You completely blew a date/flirtation opportunity. "Would you like me
to ride back to Cambridge with you, in case the chain comes off?"
sheesh.

I'd cut her a little extra slack for hitting the car barrier, too.

..max

On Mon, 08 Aug 2005 23:39:20 -0400, Dave Stallard wrote:

You sound like a complete [censored]. Apart from anything
else, don't you have any gentlemanly instincts?

--
Home page: http://members.westnet.com.au/mvw

"Dave Stallard" <[email hidden]> wrote in message
news:[email hidden]...

Quoted message said:

I was coming back from my weekly century Saturday. Ride out to Wachusett
Res., a loop around, and then back to Cambridge, finishing on the Minuteman
Bikepath. Got a late start, then had ice cream in Lexington, so it was
dark. I didn't have my light, because it doesn't fit well on the bars
with my handlebar bag, where I keep my folding spare for longer trips.

I was moving slowly because I knew there were car-blocking stanchions in
the middle of the path at a certain point. Finally, I spotted them, and
moved ahead. I saw a couple standing off to the side, almost as if
waiting for me to pass. I pass them, and then the woman calls out
plaintively, "Do you know how to fix the gear on a bike?".

"Fix the *gear* on a bike?" I repeated. "What do you mean?". I ain't got
no freewheel remover on board, lady.

"I had an accident. The chain came off" she said "and now the wheel won't
turn". I knew I was in for it now.

"On the front or the back?". The question seemed to throw her a bit, then
she said it was the front.

"OK,", I replied. "Just pull it back on!".

"I *tried*, but I couldn't. Will you help me - sir .. please?", she
answerer. Her last plea ended in a teeny whine.

Now, I do not like getting bike chain grease on my hands. It is filthy.
It is vile. It sticks to things. I *especially* do not like getting it
on my hands on behalf of a grown adult whom I don't know, and who should
be able to do it for herself. And whom I already didn't much care for.

"I had an accident. I hit those poles and flew up in the air". she went
on. "I got caught out after nightfall. I have a long way to go in the
dark back to Cambridge". (7 miles, gentle downhill). "I'm very badly
hurt".

No, lady, being very badly hurt means you have to go to the hospital and
your condition is listed as "serious". I told her to hold the bike, and
took a look. In fairness to her, it was jammed in there, and it was hard
to see where it was caught in the dark. Meanwhile, she's on the cellphone
to friends, "Bob and Carol, I'm out here on the bikepath. I've had an
accident. And I'm a miserable unmarried 40-something female". (OK, I
made that last one up). She was getting only voicemail. The bike was
tipping over. I yelled at her to hold the bike steady.

Meanwhile, her presumed companion turned out to be only a passerby who was
lending her his cell phone. Seeing her in good hands (and probably as
sick of her as I was), he moved on. I took another grip on the chain,
and it popped out. I put it back on the chainwheel, told her to lift the
bike, and then spun the pedals. The back wheel turned. Good to go.

"Will it work now?", she asked. "Yes," I said. "Oh thank you, sir". I
just rubbed my greasy hands in the sand, stood up, and mumbled something
like "You're welcome". She headed off, pedaling in the 45 rpm cadence
common to her species, her very serious injuries apparently posing no
hindrance. I got my bike, got on, and headed out behind her.

Now, though, it seemed as though I had been converted from Good Samaritan
to Unknown Male Coming Up Behind Her in the Dark. She seemed fearful,
somehow. I just wanted to pass her. I strained ahead, making sure the
opposite lane didn't have anything oncoming. I didn't want to stay in
that lane too long, for sure. Just as I was opposite, she drifted right!
"Look out!" I yelled at her (again). Then I picked up speed and headed
for home.

Dave

Unfortunately, Dave sounds a lot like the typical guy under 40 these days.
Dropping some cash on a splashy road bike and riding a few miles seems to
make them think they are special somehow.
Peter

You forgot the most important part-- was she hot?

Michael Warner said:

On Mon, 08 Aug 2005 23:39:20 -0400, Dave Stallard wrote:

You sound like a complete [censored]. Apart from anything
else, don't you have any gentlemanly instincts?

I think this is a little unfair to Dave. What he's doing is venting -here-,
saying things that he didn't say at the time. At the scene he was probably
a little impatient, but nice enough.

jj

Dave Stallard said:

I was coming back from my weekly century Saturday. Ride out to

In the context of this post, this line is REALLY funny to me. "My weekly
century"... Are you Fabrizio?

Quoted message said:

Now, I do not like getting bike chain grease on my hands. It is filthy.
It is vile. It sticks to things. I *especially* do not like getting
it on my hands on behalf of a grown adult whom I don't know, and who
should be able to do it for herself. And whom I already didn't much
care for.

Cry ME a river. Grease on your hands. OH NO!!!! For shame!! The agony.

Quoted message said:

cellphone to friends, "Bob and Carol, I'm out here on the bikepath.
I've had an accident. And I'm a miserable unmarried 40-something
female". (OK, I made that last one up). She was getting only voicemail.
The bike was tipping over. I yelled at her to hold the bike steady.

Good that in a few minutes of observation you can figure out everything
about the woman's personal life. Maybe her husband died. Maybe she's a
nun. Maybe her boyfriend is on business in Europe and thus isn't
reachable. Maybe she has a girlfriend. What the he** do you know about
her? And unmarried == miserable. I know a few people who would disagree
with that, my wife and I excepted.

Quoted message said:

fearful, somehow. I just wanted to pass her. I strained ahead,
making sure the opposite lane didn't have anything oncoming. I didn't
want to stay in that lane too long, for sure. Just as I was opposite,
she drifted right! "Look out!" I yelled at her (again). Then I picked
up speed and headed for home.

You should have clotheslined her for being a dumb old miserable
unmarried 40 year old that doesn't know how to fix her chain. That would
have taught her a lesson.

Preston

Bill Sornson said:

Dave Stallard said:

I was coming back from my weekly century Saturday. Ride out to
Wachusett Res., a loop around, and then back to Cambridge, finishing
on the Minuteman Bikepath. Got a late start, then had ice cream in
Lexington, so it was dark. I didn't have my light, because it
doesn't fit well on the bars with my handlebar bag, where I keep my
folding spare for longer trips.

I was moving slowly because I knew there were car-blocking stanchions
in the middle of the path at a certain point. Finally, I spotted
them, and moved ahead. I saw a couple standing off to the side,
almost as if waiting for me to pass. I pass them, and then the woman
calls out plaintively, "Do you know how to fix the gear on a bike?".

"Fix the *gear* on a bike?" I repeated. "What do you mean?". I ain't
got no freewheel remover on board, lady.

"I had an accident. The chain came off" she said "and now the wheel
won't turn". I knew I was in for it now.

"On the front or the back?". The question seemed to throw her a bit,
then she said it was the front.

"OK,", I replied. "Just pull it back on!".

"I *tried*, but I couldn't. Will you help me - sir .. please?", she
answerer. Her last plea ended in a teeny whine.

Now, I do not like getting bike chain grease on my hands. It is
filthy. It is vile. It sticks to things. I *especially* do not
like getting it on my hands on behalf of a grown adult whom I don't
know, and who should be able to do it for herself. And whom I
already didn't much care for.

"I had an accident. I hit those poles and flew up in the air". she
went on. "I got caught out after nightfall. I have a long way to go
in the dark back to Cambridge". (7 miles, gentle downhill). "I'm
very badly hurt".

No, lady, being very badly hurt means you have to go to the hospital
and your condition is listed as "serious". I told her to hold the
bike, and took a look. In fairness to her, it was jammed in there,
and it was hard to see where it was caught in the dark. Meanwhile,
she's on the cellphone to friends, "Bob and Carol, I'm out here on
the bikepath. I've had an accident. And I'm a miserable unmarried
40-something female". (OK, I made that last one up). She was getting
only voicemail. The bike was tipping over. I yelled at her to hold
the bike steady.
Meanwhile, her presumed companion turned out to be only a passerby who
was lending her his cell phone. Seeing her in good hands (and
probably as sick of her as I was), he moved on. I took another
grip on the chain, and it popped out. I put it back on the
chainwheel, told her to lift the bike, and then spun the pedals. The
back wheel turned. Good to go.

"Will it work now?", she asked. "Yes," I said. "Oh thank you, sir".
I just rubbed my greasy hands in the sand, stood up, and mumbled
something like "You're welcome". She headed off, pedaling in the 45
rpm cadence common to her species, her very serious injuries
apparently posing no hindrance. I got my bike, got on, and headed
out behind her.
Now, though, it seemed as though I had been converted from Good
Samaritan to Unknown Male Coming Up Behind Her in the Dark. She
seemed fearful, somehow. I just wanted to pass her. I strained
ahead, making sure the opposite lane didn't have anything oncoming. I
didn't want to stay in that lane too long, for sure. Just as I
was opposite, she drifted right! "Look out!" I yelled at her
(again). Then I picked up speed and headed for home.

Sure is pathetic...THAT YOU WORRY ABOUT GETTING A LITTLE CHAIN GRIME ON YOUR
HANDS! Boo frickin' hoo indeed.

The poor lady was stranded after dark with a bike that wouldn't work, and
had also taken a fall. Of course she was scared and emotional. A little
compassion and encouragement would have gone a long way, but instead you
"yelled" at her a few times and basically made her feel even worse. Way to
go.

The funny thing about this is that it reminds me of my wife. She once
tipped over while learning to ride clipless. She was very
[censored]/emotional about it. Something that seemingly would be no big deal
for some of us, I suppose, who ride a lot more. But in the end I did the
right thing. Consoled her, took her to the hospital where she got some
stitches, told her not to worry about it and to get back on and
eventually she went on to keep riding. She's done a half-Ironman and
dropped 150lbs.

But she got emotional over a wreck that wasn't that serious. So I guess
in Dave's book she's a wuss.

Preston

Dave Stallard said:

The Martins said:

Your replies to her and your actions have forever ingrained a picture in
her brain............... other bicycle riders are [censored].
Your should have been nice and politely fixed her bike for her. Instead
you came across like a snob.
Thanks for making the rest of us fellow cyclist appear to be the same.

An [censored] - and there are plenty of them - would have ridden away and
refused to help. I fixed her bike for her, didn't I? I only yelled at
her once, when she almost crashed into me (the first time was more of a
"spoke sharply"😉. And I thoughtfully trim attributions in my Usenet posts.

HAHAHAHAHA!!!!

"I only yelled at her once". Once again, another funny line.

And for the record I've met MANY Fabrizios on the road and they will
always ask me and my wife if we need help, even if we're just on the
side of the road doing some simple maintenance. So being courteous and
not an [censored] isn't the high bar for excellence. It's the way most
people are. That you think you deserve a cookie for not being MORE of a
jerk is funny.

Quoted message said:

1) She wouldn't grab her *own* chain and pull it out, even though I was
offering to show her how.

My wife wouldn't do this the first few times it happened to her. There
are gears in there with spikes and stuff. Sometimes you have to show
people that don't wrench their bikes at all that it's okay to touch
parts that look a little risky. I don't see the problem with that.

Quoted message said:

2) She didn't help me by holding the bike. She wasn't paying any
attention; she was trying to reach her friends, as if they were somehow
going to help her, instead of the person who actually was helping her.
Nor was she interested in learning how to fix her bike herself.

Your point? Since you're an expert cyclist she should stand in rapt
attention for your clinic?

Quoted message said:

3) She was oozing self-pity and dependence, and that is never
attractive. If worst came to worst, she would have had to push her bike

Ah, so now we get to the crux of the matter. She wasn't attractive
because of her self-pity and dependence. Now I underst and the
"miserable unmarried 40 year old" line and the context of it in your
mind.

Quoted message said:

300 yards to a well-lit town center with sidewalk cafes and plenty of
people. No cause for a meltdown.

For God's sake, man, learn some empathy. It may seem silly to you, but
everyone reacts differently to different situations. My wife, who hasn't
biked nearly as much as I have, used to get all out of order when little
stuff like this happened. She eventually learned that it wasn't a big
deal, but that was through me explaining why it wasn't and understanding
why she may see it as a big deal. Just be empathetic to your fellow man
and maybe they'll get it next time.

Quoted message said:

4) I just hate that style of emotional blackmail.

Dave

"Emotional blackmail"????

Oh my. Someone needs to sit on the couch for a while.

Preston

Dave, I'm with ya. When I ask for help on ANYTHING, I make sure to
over-thank and over-apologize and help in any way I can, including
grabbing my OWN dirty parts. (!)

That's how humanity has accepted help - graciously - for a thousand
years. I take pride in how I appreciate help.

Everyone, thank your Samaritan!

See, Dave? You should know better than to share a tale on usenet.
They'll turn on you faster than you can say, "Bob's your gay uncle."
;-)

It's grating to meet helpless adults -- the Blanche DuBois of the
world. I've spent weekends backpacking with such creatures -- they can
inspire homicide fantasies.

If I were in her shoes -- if I got stuck someplace frightened and
unprepared, and someone stopped to help -- I wouldn't care if the
person was nice about it, if they could get me going again. She
probably tells her friends about the virile genius who stopped to help
her and who then dashed off like a cheetah.

Of course, she must conclude her story with, "I have always depended
upon the kindness of strangers." :-)

-JR