I like this tunnel. It runs under a street close to my house, and because I typically ride it in only one direction, passing through it usually signals the end of my work day. Two more blocks, and I can eat dinner.
Neighborhood teenagers also seem to like this tunnel. It's close to their houses, too, and because so many parents are too lazy to walk a couple of hundred yards to find out what junior's doing, it's a good place for a kid to drink a bottle of beer without getting caught.
Unfortunately, juvenile delinquents seem to think that the only thing cooler than starting every sentence with "dude" is drinking a jacked bottle of Bud and then breaking the bottle.
Maybe I shouldn't be too hard on them. I almost never see the little cretins, and they don't cause any real problems other than a little graffitti and leaving shattered glass in the path of bicyclists. It's not as if they're mugging old ladies or doing drive-by shootings.
But come springtime, when thousands of tube-piercing shards are scattered across the bike route, I'd like to make some of those little shits walk barefoot through the tunnel a couple of times before I carry my big shop broom down there to clean up their mess.
4 comments:
hey tim - nice new look for the blog...
so, do you remember precisely when you became a grumpy old guy; the kind of guy who shakes his fist at "you youngsters on my lawn! And pull up yer trousers, why don'cha!?
Yeah, isn't it fun? Now, say it with me: "whippersnappers!"
meet you for a beer in the tunnel?
rose
Okay, I just had a The Matrix "Whoa!" moment there. Here is my tunnel where I've been dodging broken beer bottles:
http://picasaweb.google.com/WarrenT913/LimitedWarrenT/photo?authkey=ZkbhwqRivbw#5130880036243799682
Oh, to be young and smashing beer bottles again.
so, do you remember precisely when you became a grumpy old guy?
It was July 9, 1994. Some brat's Frisbee landed on my porch. I went out and bought a pellet gun that afternoon.
Damn kids.
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