Gift Horse

"number 52"

I had to put my bathing suit japanese drift modified car magazine down to go pick up my schmagel. The Sheetz MTO system typcially runs smoothly enough to turn a Swiss watch green with jealousy. Under two dollars gets you a decent bagel, a preshaped egg patty, and meat and cheese of your choice. Thanks to technology, you don't even have to speak to anyone. Great for those mornings when its 36 degrees, raining, and you woke up far to early for a mountain bike race. If I lived closer to a Sheetz I would by guilty of eating breakfast at a gas station. Everyday.

"Sir, we are out of everything bagels."

"ughh..that's fine, I'll have a plain schmagel"

Who puts this much money into a Honda civic? Those kids that work at cell phone kiosks are clearly making more money than I do. Doesn't any of the huge boob seeking readership of this magazine realize that the only girl in it is the one on the cover? Oh wait, they like cars just as much.

"Number 52"

Finally.

"we're out of plain bagels"

"what kind of schmagels do you have?"

"Lo Carb or Cinnamon Raisin."

We should have turned around right then. As un-enticing as an egg, ham and cheese on a cinnamon raisin schmagel sounds, we were staring down a 3.5 hour drive for a mountain bike race and lacked the luxury of another stop. It was 36 degrees and raining. We even had the inside scoop on the deplorable trail conditions, and yet we gassed up the Subaru.

A steady, near frozen precip. Two inches of the squirreliest mud I've ever seen. One step forward, two steps back in overboots with no cleats up the steeper hills. Dread on every downhill. Chip's fresh-from-the-shop mechanical woes. The rushed return trip so I can catch a plane. The four hour delay due to the same god-forsaken weather hitting La Guardia.

The cinnamon-y-sweet hammy schmagel was as good as the day got.