Wee-hoo! The streets are no longer safe. I am now the proud owner of a fairly old (and that is a reasonable chronological assessment, as I am an archaeologist) slightly rusty Sears women's bike. Wicked old school style! Twenty-five bucks! The only problem being that while you never forget how to ride a bike, you can get really bad at it as I discovered on the way back to my apartment. (Wobble, wobble, wobble...shit!) The other problem being that the lock on the exterior door to the carriage room is broken, which means walking my bike through the first door into the ante-room to the lobby, then through the locked door into the lobby, and then through the locked exterior door into the carriage room (and back again to get out). God knows how long it's been that way or how long it will stay that way. There is a sign on the door inside the carriage room. How thoughtful. Tomorrow, I get to practice riding again, hopefully I won't show up to work dripping blood all over the place. Hee hee!