Today was a long hot summer day. As i readied myself for my biking adventure (when I bike, I always consider it a journey, plus workout and saving the environment from not burning fossil fuels yay!) I realized that things did not go according to plan. But as Frost said I did take the road not taken, 'and it has made all the difference.'
I consumed a bowl of bowl noodles that my mom bought at Costco for cheap and even slurped the MSG enriched soup. Sometimes I think chicken flavor noodles tend to taste a bit like chicken curry. Must be the turmeric or paprika they put in the soup mix. The noodles were a bit soggy and well cooked. I like my noodles al dente if you know what i mean.
I straddled my bike and with a lunge I'm flying off the cul-de-sac and the wind is plowing right through me. Kenny Loggin's "Danger Zone" is playing within my head as I pass the guy taking a siesta who sells mangos, pineapples, strawberries and oranges on the corner of the two main avenues that converge. I make a right on the adjoining street, staying in my bike lane and avoiding traffic on my left. I'm inches away from automobiles, one quick lurch can send me flying off my seat and onto the asphalt to make human pizza.
I make a right and end up at the district office where I navigate to human resources to drop off my application. The office is an old building yet within is a whitewashed modern building that is akin to the labyrinth.
I kick off the bike rest bar and pedal my way back onto my street. As I head down the street a couple blocks before the next street, a loud conversation between squabbling adults can be heard loudly from the minivan's down window. i hear the Vietnamese guy trying to start up his car. He pops the hood and scratches his head, trying to figure out why the car's not working.
I grab my memo from my pack as I'm driving and zip back the pouch of my messenger bag all the while keeping my vision center to avoid a traffic collision. Once again, I am not fond of human pizza. Chicago style pizza from a place in Oakland called Zachary's yes! my body thrown to the four winds on a congested San Jose street. No thanks... Onto my story.
So I cruise on by and realize I've come into a dead end. The street is a cul-de-ac with a children's park with a rainbow motif. I head on forward and end up on a bridge over 680 S. The chain link guards are raised up high and curves, like a ballet dancer in fifth position. I weave past two steel columns that act as speed barriers.
I make a left and I'm on my way. A gut feeling tells me to make a right and continue on my route but my excited nature leads me off course. I ask a youth with some iPod earphones stuck to his ears where the street i was supposed to turn on was. He doesn't know.... I go the long way and end up lost. I find my way back onto story and figure it's a long way till I reach SJSU.
As I'm on the intersection of Story and McLaughlin, after passing by a recycling center, an African American male comments on how significant it is to have a helmet for safety reasons. We chat cordially about the dense traffic congestion in east/south San Jose, in this area of Seven Trees and the feeling is mutual. Both, two dudes, waiting for the walk signal so we can go our own ways. How personal is a conversation between a one on one in person encounter. When I'm talking on my cell and a voice is talking, I feel that I'm listening to their voice and not really having a conversation with someone. I dunno, I just feel so disconnected gabbing on Skype or texting on my cell. The communcation is limited, the conversation is half its real worth.
he zips away, probably off to work and I ponder on how hospitable people you just happen to meet are on the road, especially strangers you would never meet if you stayed home watching tv. I like the adventure, the spontaneity of seeing new faces and exchanging conversations on insights you never knew you would have.
I done paying the balance of my student fee increase, and I stare at the walk signal. I slap my thighs as if that will get its attention. Then i realize there's a button. i slap the button, it pops back out with a pop sound. I make it to the cafe. it's right across the city hall.
I order up a bag of coffee beans and immediately the barista and I carry on a conversation about coffee culture ruminating about how coffee is brewed, the flavors of the beans (the bag of beans has this nutty smell to them, as he described, like Nutter Butters.) and then he offered me a cup of decaf. He steamed the milk and prepared the espresso machine. After a good tight compression of the fine espresso grind, he frothed up the whole milk and poured it into a ceramic cup with a saucer. The foam barely poured out of the cup, held to the edge by gravity. There was a leaf pattern swirl of the mix between coffee and steamed milk. I admired it's beauty and proceeded to, in my photographic way, to take a cell phone picture of it. I sipped it down, occassionally munching on a sky flake crackers
I think about it for a minute and decide not to work on my work applications in the library. I take the bus home and for some reason have trouble getting the bike on the rack in front of the bus. It takes me a couple tries until the bus driver, motions me to pull the hook over the front wheel and presto! The problem is solved.
I rest in my bus seat until the bus arrives at my stop. Bike back and just crash at home. I'm tired and it had been a long day.
Not going to watch movies! RICA pass or bust!
