My little Cinderella story
*sigh* I am so twitterpated. I met the cutest boy at the race the other day and by the time I got back from my "go," he was gone.
He was parked in front of me and asked if I had any advil. I told him that I didn't, and I usually did, and that because I'm a girl I thought it was law that I had to. So he flashed his pretty smile and said he was reporting me. At that juncture I almost, almost asked if he wanted my phone number in case he couldn't find me later.
After some wandering I came back to the truck and he proudly announced he had found some drugs. I laughed and called him an f'ing doper. We chatted for a bit about where I was from in Oregon as he drug out his rollers and I shuddered in fear. Told him my old roommate had rollers and I never bothered because I couldn't afford to fix the sheet rock I'd inevitably crash through.
Later he asked if I was ready to give them a try and I resisted the urge to mention say that there were things of his I wanted to ride but it wasn't his rollers. What? He had a really nice bike but it was just too big for me. :D
So I saw him again at the start area as he was coming back to retrieve clothing he had left. We chatted a bit more and he said he'd see me back at the parking area. I promised myself I'd remember what kind of bike he rode (I can say it's orange and white) and what team he was on (I think his kit was dark grey and light blue) but that didn't work. Fantastic, now all I know is that I have a thing for a tall skinny racer boy. Wow, THAT narrows it down.
*sigh* Probably wouldn't happen anyway, probably would have gotten shot down but now I'm even more motivated to attend even more races! Couldn't have have left me a damn bike shoe? Isn't that how it goes? And somewhere in there his fairy god mother gives him like, a really shiney new skin suit and pumpkin made out of carbon fiber and stuff?
