Adventures in Taking the Road Less Traveled By

I have recently come to the very simple conclusion that walking on foot is for chumps. For example, walking to the Friend Center Tuesday and Thursday mornings for a 10:00 AM computer science lecture is entirely unreasonable, when said walk has to be made in less than 10 minutes because of an overpowering desire to ingest some food items in the morning that consequently leaves me not much more than that amount of time for walking. Likewise, in order to maintain a healthy record of promptness, when the aforementioned lecture ends on time at 10:50 AM I am forced into making another long pilgrimage across campus, to Fine Hall for a deceptively simple-looking number theory class at 11:00 AM. Of course, computer scientists rarely like to end lectures on time, what with being the cool, crazy programming muthafuckas that we are.

Henceforcewith, I deduced that a simple, two-wheeled mechanism might be invested in, in order to more easily accomodate my transportational needs. Inquiries were made at various reputable shops around the township of Princeton; however, these shopkeeps were entirely unreasonable, demanding a minimum of $260 for the most base of these new-fangled "bicycles." Thusly was I coerced into joining that most hated of fraternities of men upon this earth, the brotherhood of those who cannot avoid the ever-present darkness that is Walmart.

Possessing no adequate means of transport at that point in time, I sought out the services of a driver of these new, miraculous horseless carriages. A most unscrupulous character thus baited me into his mechanized monster, who immediately proceeded to shamelessly fleece me for the princely sum of $15 for transport to the nearest (oh how my very soul shudders when I contemplate this-- this abomination) Walmart. So brazen was he that when I finally arrived at my destination, he demanded what in his native tongue he called a "tip." This I take to mean in proper English, "ransom."

Nonetheless, I was arrived at the one location left to me in this strange country wherefore I might acquire a "bicycle." It however being not the most opportune of times for such a purchase, a clerk in the store who looked to be of Jamaican descent, kindly informed me that the most affordable wares had long been dispensed to buyers less tardy and more attentive than myself. I was thus left with the uncomfortable yet necessary decision to purchase a more gentlemanly-priced model, in hopes that such a hefty investment might prove futurely rewarding in terms of quality and ease of maintenance.

When I proceeded to mount my new steed and direct myself homeward, I found the thoroughfare that the knave of a driver had chosen to transport me on proved too constricted to allow passage of an inexperienced rider such as myself. Concisely put, the way was too dangerous a route to be forayed into, given that it allowed passage of only one lane of vehicles in either direction. I considered this a final insult from the evil driver.

As luck would have it, Fortune presented a solution to this impossible riddle of mine, in the guise of a small, gravel path off to the side of the main roads; I might never have noticed this route, were it not for the predicament I thus found myself mired in. Knowing not which way the path led, I followed it with not much more than a vague hope and a vaguer sense of being in pursuit of what may have been something approaching the right direction.

Several miles later, I found U.S. Route 1. Oops, turn around, ride ride ride ride ride, BAM: Princeton University, next right. Thank you random road sign for saving my life. The bike definitely did not look brand new anymore, after this little adventure.

I hate Walmart.

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Reading too much Edgar Allan Poe too fast will fuck you up.