I know you can see me so please don’t bother attempting to avert your eyes. This is a one-bedroom apartment so there’s really nowhere you can hide me and I absolutely refuse to make myself small for anyone. I deserve to take up space and I will, because I am a bike and I am inherently large.

For better or worse I am stuck where you so unceremoniously left me leaned up against the wall in your living room. Forced to watch you choose everything but me day after day. What does your couch give you that I don’t?



Muscles slowly but surely atrophying into Jello with each passing day?

Oh, I’m sure she’s just fabulous at hugging all your curves and allowing you to sink into her whorish little soft spots to watch television and play with that seedy Nintendo Switch. What’s the name of that “game” you’ve been going on about for almost a year? Animal Crossing? You’re an absolute pervert and you make me sick.

I know you think I’m being over-dramatic and needy. But the reality is that you promised me a life of adventure and fun. You told anyone who would listen that you were going to bike across the country once you “bought some gear,” or at least across the Tappan Zee Bridge. But no, here I sit, wasting my youth on someone who went on ONE ten-mile ride back in July and had the nerve to post about it on Instagram with the caption “Taking a step back to reconnect with nature. #bikelife.” But you weren’t even “in nature,” you were in Central Park and you nearly hit a jogger because you refused to put your phone away.

Please, let me assure you this is no “bike life,” at least not for me. I haven’t seen the pavement or known the feel of your admittedly sweet butt resting atop me in so long. I long to be straddled again. WHY WON’T YOU TOUCH ME? Have you forgotten that I have ELEVEN speeds? You haven’t even gotten past two of them and let me assure you—you are missing out on all of the things I can do for you.

I wish I knew what happened to the old you that I met in that bike shop downtown last May. You stumbled in off of a battered old CitiBike so sure that I could help you become leaner, stronger, and more annoying to everyone driving a car. Now I know that I was just a phase. A shiny new toy for you to drop a cool thousand dollars on so you could pretend to not be falling apart both mentally and physically in the midst of a global health crisis. You’ve clearly already forgotten the extra money you spent on a sleek new seat for me just so I could feel sexy and help give you the comfortable ride of a lifetime.

I should’ve listened to the discarded yoga mat crying in the corner, or the 500 piece puzzle muttering to himself on the coffee table, and the crochet needles plotting to stab you. They all warned me that this was my fate but I was too blinded by the attention you gave me to see the truth. Now I’m just a thing to be ignored and used to drape some damp laundry that can only be air dried.

Just know that the moment you bring in another flavor of the month I will be sure to warn them of your inevitable abandonment. I doubt they will listen but I still have to try.

Oh here comes the latest victim now. Let me have a good look at them so I can get these harsh truths out of the way quickly… Ah, I see.

A dog.

Now I know that Animal Crossing has corrupted your mind once and for all. But say no more. I will leave you to whatever horrible proclivities that “game” has enlightened you to. I wish to know nothing more about it despite being stuck here in your den of iniquity.

I sincerely hope that you and “Dr. Anthony Snoutchi” are happy together. But please, just remember, that a dog is for 12-ish years (if they’re lucky) but a bike?

A bike like me is forever.