Double Flee A

The third annual drunken bar bike tour in northeast Minneapolis was everything I dreamed and more. I borrowed a friend's wifecycle so it didn't have a crossbar, and that made me think: Why is it that women's bicycles are the ones that can't rack you when you climb on? It's for the skirts, I guess, but then what's the big advantage of having a crossbar anyway? Such were my thoughts as two hundred other cyclists and myself pedaled through the winding neighborhoods of nordeast, god's country. There were many, many beers. The party peaked, I think, at Laura's 1029 bar, which was very accomodating to our huge, unannounced group. Some chick sang "I like big butts" on karaoke. It brought the house down. There's something about a white punk chick shouting baby got back that approximates a spiritual plateau. When the entire audience is participating: "fellas, yeah, fellas, yeah, does you girlfriend got the butt, hell yeah!", in a smashing call and response, you know that this is the best things are going to get for a long time. The night got fuzzy and the weather was perfect. If you're going to get so drunk you have to pass out outside someplace, that was the weather you wanted to do it in. If my schedule allows it, I plan to attend the fourth annual next year.

posted by dale @ 3:11 PM