Wait. Let me explain.

So I know how irresponsible it is and everything, but before you say anything, just try to imagine what it was like. There I was, out in the flea market all alone, walking along, and I had already been tempted by a $10 singlespeed Schwinn ladies’ cruiser just about Alex’s size, as well as cruelly mocked by any number of Murrays and Huffys that looked SO much better before I got close.

And you know I have never fully recovered from the Vera Horsman experience (even though that centurion was much better for her than it would have been for me). I been pining, you know?

So put yourself in my shoes. There you are, thirty meters away, jaded and longing for bikeness, and you see THIS:

zippy at a distance

What do you do? What do you do?

Me, I talked to the guy, and then talked some more. He wanted $65. I had $31. He wouldn’t let it go for that. I walked away. He said $50. I still walked away, because I only had $31. I went to an ATM and got $20 more, and brought it home.

So, this is what it looks like:

3. The tires and tubes are shot (no surprises) and the cables and housings are both ugly and questionable in their soundness. These will be replaced.

4. I don’t know the year or model of this puppy, and I’m not really that interested in the journey of finding out, so if you happen to know, go ahead and tell me.

3. Sadly, I must do my boy scout duty and try to find the previous owners. There was a sticker on the bike, with the names and address of a couple in Dallas. At a place like the pulga, it’s a good bet there’s some stolen property. Sigh. I’ll call them, if I can find them.