So a professor asked me to help her switch out her tires on her dahon 20" folder. No prob, except for the new schwalbes she bought were much fatter than the originals and rubbed on the front fender no matter how I tried to adjust it. I offered to take the folder back to my place so I could heat up the fender on the stove and bend it a little.
As I was walking across campus (too crowded to ride) I suddenly grew very self concious, feeling every bit like a 14 year old going to class with a fat pimple on my nose. I realized it was the bike. After rocking the fashion-fixie and the ultra high zoot road and mountainbikes, I actually felt silly tooling a 20" folder (note: it was covered in political bumperstickers too). Then, I grew doubly ashamed for feeling ashamed about something so trivial, and was thrice embarassed for getting so worked up about what kind of bike I was walking across a college campus. Perhaps after so much saddle time on the hipster bike, I actually became one?
What has this city done to me!?