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Wednesday, 10 June 2020
Psychopath
Yesterday, I overheard someone say that there was a psychopath on Main Street. I
thought for a second, and realized he must have been referring to our mayor,
since the City Hall is on Main St. If he had been talking about a previous
mayor, whom the city sued for wasting/embezzling/mismanaging tens of millions of
dollars, I could understand. But our current mayor seems about as down-to-earth
as anyone. I dismissed it as idle chatter.
Later that day, I dropped by my brother's place. We enjoyed a beer, and
mostly chatted about our gardens. At one point, the conversation came around
to baldness. To be more specific, the worn out nature of my rear bicycle tire,
which I had ridden over there.
He recounted to me how he was always getting flats on his bike, and in
frustration, he went to a local bike shop, tire in hand, and asked for advice.
The proprietor immediately told him he needs a new tire, as it was so worn
that any piece of glass would penetrate it. Problem solved.
But this story is not about bikes, or even gardens. During the course of
my brother's tale, he mentioned the name of the bike shop, and that it's
located on Main Street.
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