OK, prepare to laugh – perhaps uncomfortably, BUT I hope uproariously — as you read this one! It’s about bike seats and private parts…
I have a bike seat that fits me very well. I’m broad-beamed so I have a broad-beamed bike seat that keeps me from chaffing (most of the time) down under…
Lisa has a bike seat that suits her anatomy.
Our bike seats are very different. Mine is wide and well cushioned; hers is narrower and offers less give.
All well and good until —
Until I got a flat tire yesterday. We were already up at South Prairie, and because it was my vehicle parked at Orting we decided I should be the one to ride back down and get it so I could drive it to South Prairie to pick up the disabled bike and Lisa, who pushed it into S.P and sat waiting for me to get back.
My first experience on Lisa’s bike was that the seat was low. That was easy to fix. As soon as I found my knees up near my chin (an exaggeration? yes!), I hopped right off and raised the seat stem so it fit my leg length. Then I waved goodbye and headed back down the trail like a scared rabbit being chased by hounds, because I knew Lisa would start getting cold when she reached South Prairie (about a thousand yards distant) while she sat there waiting for me to show up.
The only thing was, Lisa’s bike seat fit me more or less like a freakin’ tampon. Every pedal rotation I made (and there were a great many in 7 miles of downhill racing) scoured my tender bits. Before too long I felt like I was seated on a cactus that was creating raw open wounds. (A slight exaggeration, but not outright hyperbole).
I tried coasting a bit, and shifting a bit right or left, but all the shifting did was make the wounding more widespread. So by the time I got down to Orting, I was one miserable bike rider. I was never so happy to get off a bike in all my life!
Well, of course, as soon as I rescued Lisa and the bike, I had to tell her about my ow-ee adventure. I groused (for comic effect), “If your damn postage-stamp bike seat had behaved more like a kindly vibrator than a brillo pad, I could have enjoyed the trip!”
At which time I added, “Gads, if bike seats were like that, everyone in the country would be riding all the time! Maybe we should manufacture one!!! A world of happy bikers and no more wars!”
Lisa was cracking up in the passenger seat. I added, “And this is the kind of conversation no one ever carries on in their outdoor voices, isn’t it?”
Lisa thought I should take this routine on the road to comedy clubs.
If you’re not laughing now, I’m embarrassed and the conversation should have stayed in the SUV. But my guess is you’re laughing, so it’s all right.
But just remember to keep this conversation between you and me, and anyone else you decide to share it with. (Be careful, though! You just never know who will cluck cluck at something like this! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA)
