The Story of Her Holding an Orange

I met Rose again.

I have become almost indifferent to what’s going on to me. Since my first story, so much shit happened/was discovered that I became dulled down to the point of almost not giving a fuck. Put that attitude together with the fact that nothing happened (until yesterday) to us since Rose’s break-in, and you have one dude who doesn’t give a shit anymore. I suppose everyone reaches that point at some time. Maybe it’s a defense mechanism.

Anyways, yesterday (Wednesday), I had a day off from work. My girlfriend decided that she wanted to get away from everything for a little while. She went to her friend’s house in our town for few days. I like to alleviate my stress by working out. I had a day off and wanted to do a bit more than just lift weights, so I decided to go on a long bike ride. 50 miles to the next city. It was really cloudy in the morning, so I decided to take nothing with me but a couple of bucks for the bus ride back. (also, ATT&T sent me iPhone 5, and I definitely didn’t wanna take that if it was going to rain). So I went on the bike trip with nothing but my Trek and few dollars.

About 30 miles into the trip, I got on this bike trail that led almost to the end of my destination. It is a 22 mile trail. I did this trip once in July and the place was packed. Hundreds of fucking cyclist everywhere, could barely move. This time, the trail looked deserted. Nobody on it. And weather became shittier and shittier. Heavy fog set in. I almost felt as if I were in a cloud, it was so moist, but without the actual rain. My shirt was dripping with water, and visibility was shit, but I decided to keep going. Few miles into the trail, I started noticing benches on the side, something I haven’t noticed before. Cool idea since the road is so long, I guess you need a break sometimes. I kept riding though. Visibility was 15 feet at best. About 7 miles into the track, I thought I heard laughing. I squeezed my breaks and slid for few feet. I listened. Nothing. Well, I know what you think, and you’re right. I’m a fucking idiot. Going for a long trip on a secluded track when I have some crazy cunt following me. Plot of a cliché horror movie. I know. And I regret doing what I did. But my reasoning was that nobody ever physically attacked me, so the worst-case scenario would be I am offered another fucking orange.

I got back on the bike, did few pedal strokes, and heard the laughing again. It was coming from ahead. Fuck it, I’m biking through. Fog decided to have mercy on me and increase the area visibility to about 25 feet. That’s when I saw someone sitting on the bench ahead. I lied to myself saying that its normal for a biker to sit on the side and rest. That’s what it is probably, right? You and I both know that no, it wasn’t a biker sitting there. It was a man. He wore a black suit. No hat or cane though, so I felt a little better. I switched my shit into the highest gear and started pedaling Armstrong style. As I was passing him, he started laughing again. There was nothing around him. No newspapers, no phone, no bike. Just sitting, hands on his knees, not even looking at me. Just looking ahead. And just as I am passing, this fucker starts laughing hysterically. I got fucking scared. It was then that I noticed an orange right next to him on the bench. Then he looked straight at me. Rose encounters were scary as hell, but this man, this man was on a whole new level. I just kept pedaling. I heard the laugh one more time as I was riding away from him. Next 12 miles or so took me about 45 minutes, in other words, I wasn’t slowing down. I got to the town where I wanted to catch a bus and another shock was waiting for me. I arrived at the bus station at 4:10 pm. Last bus was leaving at 4:30. The way these schedules work, this bus would take me to a small town at the beginning of that trail, where I’d catch another bus to home. Well, I come at the bus station and I see that bus only has two bike racks and they’re both taken. Yup, let’s cut the artistic description shit and jump to the point: driver said it was against the rules to put a bike inside the bus. It was the last bus and if I wanted to go back home that night, I’d have to bike to the other town and arrive before 7:00pm, when the last bus for my place leaves. I had 2 and half hours to do 20 miles. Either that or spend the night there. I only had $10 on me so…yea. Bike back you stupid shit. And good luck with that laughing man on the trail.