Believe it or not, I'm riding on air, never thought it would be so free-ee-ee!

A few days ago, two free tickets to an "Electric Bike Tour" of Austin arrived at our office. Naturally, the tickets fell to the newcomers: me and Z, and we made reservations immediately. The tickets promised "Pedaling optional!" which sounded like just my kind of exercise. We couldn't see a downside to the deal--free stuff, more familiarty with Austin, and a fun ride. What never occured to me is why anyone would want to give away free electric bike tours of Austin. Being a VISTA has caused me to put too much faith in the kindness and sincerity of others, so I happily showed up at the address on the tickets this morning at 9.

The smarter among you have probably guessed by now that the tour was little more than an attempt to get people interested in buying electric bikes. After I walked into the store and saw rows and rows of bikes, scooters, and batteries, I realized that I was becoming too naive. Of course there was no business that actually sold tours of Austin on electric bikes; they wouldn't make any money. When I told Z about my fears that we would be cornered after the tour and forced to buy $500 bikes, she just said, "You think we should run?" They already had our names, addresses, and phone numbers on little cards, and we had been introduced to everyone on staff. I decided we should stick it out and bolt after they began the sales pitch, but I was pretty frightened. When Z asked the manager where the tour was going, I thought but didn't say, "Probably to a time-share in Florida."

Perhaps my fear was partly related to a hideous beast that the owners called "Holly" but that I named USD: Unblinking Skeleton Dog. USD was a retired greyhound whose bones were poking through its mottled fur and whose eyes never seemed to close. She laid beside us on the couch, staring at me with empty eyes--no, not hungry eyes, exactly, but rather the dead stare of one who has long ago given up hope that she will ever be fed. If it weren't for the occasional rise and fall of Unblinking Skeleton Dog's back, she would have looked exactly like a dead dog on the side of the road. Z and I kept half-laughing, half-crying, as we asked each other questions such as, "Do you think I should give her my sandwich?" and "How many ribs does she have?" I don't know if all greyhounds are just naturally that thin, but as it was we had little time to worry about USD since we had to get fitted for helmets and taught how to ride the electric bikes.

Believe it or not, this adventure does not end in disaster. I'm sorry to disappoint you folks, but we actually enjoyed the 3 1/2 hour tour very much. Of course, it was obvious that the tour was not about Austin and was only an attempt to get us to buy a bike (Tour Guide: "And this is the historical house where one of the Alamo survivors lived...I forget her name..."). Nonetheless, we enjoyed the beautiful scenery and weather, and we were on electric bikes which rocked my little world. I just wanted to have potato chips in my bike zip-pouch so I could really get into the feeling that I wasn't doing any actual exercise. On electric bikes, you can pedal, and you do a lot of the time, but only when you're on a flat surface or going downhill. Anytime a tiny bit of real effort was needed, we just used the electric motor to speed past it. In that way, pedaling ceased to be exercise and became just another insignificant motion you make every day between the times when machines do everything for you, like pushing an elevator button or opening a car door. Needless to say, our tour guides loooked more like the "before" pictures of gym advertisements than they looked like Lance Armstrong. Although one of them was wearing a yellow shirt.

When we got back to the store, we pretended we had an urgent appointment and dashed out of the store. They graciously let us go, and we celebrated our freebie tour with some comida mexicana. All in all, a very nice day.

Before I forget: this is one of the funniest things I've seen in a long time. Please read all the stories; I promise you won't regret it: http://www.mcsweeneys.net/links/ghost/index.html

Another one of the funniest things I've seen in a long time is Z. You never see her sick sense of humor coming, what with her aristocratic beauty and New England anal-retentiveness. But twice this little redhead has managed to get the better of me, one when we first met and another one today. They both involved her boyfriend, A. The first time she duped me was when she asked how much I fought with Elliot. I told the truth, which is that we've never really had a fight, and she countered that she and A sometimes fought like cats and dogs, screaming, yelling, and "hitting each other." Now, I had known the girl only for a day, so I wasn't sure how to respond to this last detail. I kept sputtering and asking questions such as, "Um, like, really hitting each other?" until she finally told me she was kidding. Did I learn from this episode? Apparently not, because today she successfully convinced me that A weighs her every week to make sure that she's not getting fat. While I was busy trying to figure out the best way to tell her she was involved with Satan himself, she was busy trying not to laugh and give away the joke. When did I get so gullible? I must be slipping in my old age. Time to go take my pills...