Chain of a Fool

Last Friday as I was jubilantly riding home from a haircut, the chain on my bike abruptly snapped off, leaving me sans bicycle for the rest of the journey home and indeed the past week. A brisk walking pace will luckily deliver me to work in ten minutes, but the lack of wheels proved most inconvenient whenever I needed to travel to the city proper. I was thus resolved to fix my bike post-haste. My boss told me I should just drop it off and let the shop handle it, but I said nay, for I am a man of thrift and vigor and would surely be able to replace a simple bike chain. Full of undaunted courage I went to the bike store, sauntered to the counter and purchased the three essential pieces of equipment for any chain-replacement therapy: the chain, the chain tool, and, perhaps most importantly, lubrication. After three hours of toil, however, all I had to show for my labors was a bike as useless as before and hands as dirty as a coal miner's. For whatever reason, I simply could not adjust the chain to the proper length. I went to bed dejected, but after a night a fitful rest I had figured out exactly how I was going that chain on with no problem at all.

The bike shop called me this evening to tell me bike will be ready for pick-up in the morning.