City, 1; FussyCrankypants, 0; or, Why is it ALWAYS the bike??

When the Fussy Crankypants first got married, Mrs Fussy Crankypants had a bike (named Clive, true story) and this bike lived on the balcony of the second floor apartment they had the dubious pleasure of renting.  Clive’s history with the Fussy Crankypants was very short-lived as he was soon thereafter lifted/pinched/stolen/heisted from said balcony.

Last Father’s Day, Mrs Fussy Crankypants just happened to decide that buying a bike for Mr Fussy Crankypants would be both a brilliant and an awesome gift as Mr FC was always talking about going for a bike ride.  So one day, Mrs Fussy Crankypants left him at home with The Tyrant while Mrs Fussy Crankypants took his car (Mrs FC’s car having a carseat in it) to the Big Evil Box Store That Shall Remain Nameless But that Starts With Wal and Ends With Mart and picked out a brand new bicycle and wheeled it up and paid for it and took it out into the parking lot and put it into the trunk except she didn’t do that part because as it turned out it wouldn’t FIT in the trunk and so therefore she stood around in the parking lot looking frustrated and sweaty (did she mention it was starting to rain?) until some nice man who just HAPPENED to be an avid cyclist parked his car two cars down and came down to help and just HAPPENED to have the right kind of tool in his car to be able to take the wheel off and get the bike in the trunk at last and got it home and into the shed (did she mention the rain?).

Upon getting the bicycle for Father’s Day, Mr FC was delighted but also not in that he did not like the super-cool retro designed bike that Mrs FC had chosen, claming it was “too hard” to pedal. (Whatever) And so the bike was exchanged, after a suitable waiting time, coordiation of schedules, cramming BACK into the car and also waiting for the Only Employee Who Could Sell a Bike to get back from vacation at the Big Evil Box Store That Shall Remain Nameless But that Starts With Wal and Ends With Mart. And also it was Tuesday in the fourth quarter of the new moon three weeks before the summer solstice. Probably.

After getting the Bike of His Dreams For Under $100, Mr FC then proceeded to ride the bike around the FC’s then-neighborhood non-stop. Or at least three times.

Following the Folly of the Big Move of the Fussy Crankypants’ this year, the bike took up permanent residence in the garage, waiting for happier weather in which to be ridden.


This past weekend, intent upon mischief and also possibly finding a warm place to sleep, one or several unknown miscreants broke into said garage and proceeded to sleep in a warm place and/or  lift/pinch/steal/heist Mr FC’s erstwhile and ill-fated bicycle.

Therefore, vagrants and general miscreants in the city of This Fair City are hereby warned and notified that the Fussy Crankypants are no longer under any compulsion to offer succour (or hand-outs) to said down-and-outers as they have just made a $100 non-tax-deductible donation in your honor.

You have no house, the FCs have no bicycle.   That just about evens the score, right?


6 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Amberlina
    Jan 29, 2010 @ 15:35:53

    BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Things better start turning UP for the FCPants family!


  2. Emily
    Jan 29, 2010 @ 17:40:29

    I wonder if the city that the FCs previously resided in would be a better fit…


  3. Amberlina
    Jan 29, 2010 @ 17:58:34

    I’m pretty sure the best fit is OREGON. Not that I’m BIASED. Are you getting sick of me harping on it yet, Mrs. FCPANTS?


    • ~m
      Jan 30, 2010 @ 20:06:18

      It’s nice to be fought over 🙂
      Amber, I could never get sick of you harping about my Forever Home, Oregon, Land of Promise and Paradise-on-Earth and (most importantly) Home to Amberlina and C.


      • Amberlina
        Jan 31, 2010 @ 11:57:39

        Thank goodness. I have to say it would be a much nicer place for me to live if the FCPants family moved here!

  4. Sharon
    Feb 02, 2010 @ 15:09:31

    I still think we 3 need to go together to buy some acreage with perhaps a little cottage or yurt on it (I vote for yurt) IN OREGON and husbands are not allowed in it unless they have refrained from annoying, distressing, or otherwise troubling our existence for a consecutive 7 days. Or maybe we just shouldn’t tell them about it at all. And it could be electrified somehow so that anyone who tried to steal anything from our property got properly zapped.


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