Shit, where’s my bike? Dammit. Maybe if I spin around a few times looking concerned it’ll catch my eye. Ugh, I always do this. Where is that thing? And why did everyone else have to get a gray bike too? God, this happens every single time I walk out of Psych. No, shit, shit, it’s that girl from section. She’s coming this way. Okay, act natural.
My god, you just looked like such a doofus. She definitely thinks you’re a doofus, you doofus. I literally can’t take you anywhere.
Wait, is that my bike? The fuck? I definitely didn’t park under that tree. I came from the other side of campus, how could I have even parked under that tree? Why is it over there? I am 100% sure that isn’t where I parked my bike.
It’s still locked. I guess nobody moved it. But didn’t I park it on the rack by the stairs? Or did I do that yesterday? Did I change my underwear today? Honestly, I don’t think I’ve even showered since Thursday. This calls for a pit smell test.
That’s a definite C- on the smell test.
Maybe my bike is being scared off because I smell. Come on dude, we all have those days. Remember when I biked over that moldy burrito and your wheels smelled for like a week? Yeah, so get off that high horse, mister.
But seriously, how the hell did you get over here? No, I’m absolutely sure I parked you by the stairs today. That’s a fact. So how did you-
Wait, is this a Schwinn? I could have sworn this was a Trek. Then where’s my-
Wow. On the rack. Honestly, I may as well take the struggle bus back home.