I blame Calvin and Hobbes: my Patient Husband wants to bike to work.
The reason we moved from Angeltown to Angelborough was his commute. The simple act of uprooting our lives, doubling our mortgage, throwing away a third of our things and getting an ulcer having to deal with many, many stupid mortgage officers and a couple of stubborn attorneys reduced his commute by 90 miles a day.
Well, now it’s time to pay the piper. It would be great exercise to bike to work. Great for the environment. Wouldn’t it be cool. The whole world would love him.
I said, How are you going to get all your things to work? Your lunch? How will you change into clean clothes after biking ten miles? Can you even bike ten miles? How are you going to make it through That Intersection in Northtown?
My Patient Husband had all the answers to this: he Googled them up. I’m not convinced. Because all the answers boil down to, “Well, they say *this* but I’m not sure how it would work out.”
This morning, he said, for example, one website says to keep a change of clothes in the office. Sounds nice, right? For one day. Then what? His office fits a desk, a filing cabinet and a tiny book shelf. A wardrobe? Not so much. There’s a fitness center on the jobsite, and he could keep toiletries there, but what about his towel? Shouldn’t that get laundered every so often?
So I said, here’s what you do. You call Zoots.
I didn’t need to go any further: he was already laughing. (Zoots is a dry-cleaner that delivers.) But since I can’t refrain from running a joke into the ground, I went on.
I said, you wear clothes on Monday, then call and have them picked up at the end of the day, biking home in your biking clothes. On Tuesday, they bring them back, and while the delivery guy is there, you say, “Wait a minute,” and you strip out of your clothes and put on the clean ones, and have him take away the dirty ones.
The downside: his office mates will think he only owns two sets of clothes.
He said, “I could keep two spares there,” but I pointed out that the whole aim of this was not to have extra clothes in his office at all, since he has no room.
Yeah, we’re still working out the logistics of the bike thing. But the first hurdle will be the purchase of a bike. And next, as my Patient Husband points out, he needs to remember how to ride one. Finally, I need to get over my fear of him being sideswiped or doored by some malicious driver. Guess which one will be the hardest?