On sour soothers

and bikes that self identify as service animals

Oh dear reader!

I ran into some trouble last night.

Well.

That’s not entirely true.

I rode into some trouble.

You see, I went to Bloblaws to get a bag of sour candy.

(I do so loves me a bag of sour candies in the evening)

But when I went, I forgot to bring my bike lock.

No matter, I thought to myself. I’ll just do what I did at Costco and bring it along with me. They have those carts. No one will care.

But ya know what?

Someone did care.

Or perhaps they pretended to care.

As I ambled along through the produce, I caught the glare of a well put together lady. She looked at me, then my bike, then the sticker that says “Who Farted’ on the downtube.

She shook her head and spoke to me: You can’t bring that in here.

As someone who now checks all of the boxes on the census form, I pretended to be deaf and just ignored her.

This lady with her Burr Berry bag was an insistant bitch. She got in front of me and said: I don’t know if you heard me, but you can’t bring that thing in here.

I know what you’re thinking…