Yesterday I was biking to work and I see some guy on a brand spanking new Cannondale cross bike. He didn't have a helmet and his cadence didn't look pro, so I figure it was some weekend warrior trying out his new wheel.
I had to carry a bunch of stuff that day, so I was riding my 1973 Huffy three-speed granny-bike freighter with wire rear-baskets loaded with stuff.
Swoosh, I passed him just cruising at my normal speed.
Well, you know he couldn't stand for that, so next thing I know, he passes me. Just for fun, I gave it a little more gas and passed him again. The race was on.
He was mashing his peddles, so I gave it more gas, riding just behind him so he couldn't see me standing on my peddles to keep up. My basket was clanking against the sides of my bike the whole time telling me "hey, man, this 'aint normal, what's up?".
He probably thought he had left me in his dust, but when we came to a stop, there I was! I looked cooly over at him and gave him the old, "Hi, there fellow biker" nod. He was sweating like a wet rag, but I was cool as a cucumber (trying not to breath hard of course).
The fun I was having was trying to give this fellow the impression that I was just pleasantly cruising along on my loaded down old granny-bike while he was killing himself on the new Cannondale. That is why I let him mostly lead.
We kept this up for about five miles. I finally wizzed by him and turned off. I looked at him through my rear-view mirror and saw him stopped at the corner leaning on his handle bars and watching me continue on my merry way.
It was hilarious. I hope to see him today as well, but he probably brought his bike back to the dealer already and complained that the bearings weren't greased or something.