April 22, 2010
Tri, Tri Again
From an unnamed university in the greater San Francisco Bay Area...
So once upon a time, in a time we'll call "2008", I liked to do triathlons. I thought my 6 month stint in the world of triathlons would lead to a lifetime of participation in the sport, but it has not. Since coming to the realization that my time in the activity is probably over, I've decided to sell some of my tri gear.
I'm still on the list serv for the training group I used to work out with, and when I saw an email from a guy looking to buy a used "transition bag" (triathlons require a LOT of equipment, so your transition bag holds everything you'll need for swimming, biking, and running, with special compartments for wet stuff and everything), I told him I had one in great condition that I was willing to let go to a good home.
I sent him a pic of the bag (the one above in fact), we settled on a price, and he agreed to come pick it up from me on campus today. "How will I know who you are?" "I'll be holding a giant transition bag that looks like the one in my photo." "Right, makes sense, well I drive a gray Prius."
I brought the bag in today and Officemate asked what its deal was. I told her about my afternoon meetup and said "He's just going to pull up alongside the curb, get the bag, and give me cash. I feel like it's a drug deal." "Yeah, you've never been involved in any drug deals, have you?"
So I was waiting at the specific spot at the specific time, and it turned out the guy was running a couple of minutes late. You know who else in the Bay Area drives a Prius? EVERYONE. The only thing people here love more than being environmentally friendly is being smug about being environmentally friendly. You know how vague of a description "gray" is? Pretty vague. I was wildly waving at silver Priuses, tan-ish Priuses, even one dark blue one.
Turns out it was pretty damn gray. He got the bag and I got my sweet scrilla, but not before no less than 3 of my students stopped to mock me for standing on the corner with what looks like a really oversized backpack, jumping up and down and yelling at random cars. "S, what are you doing?" "Drug deal," I told them.