Bikes! And the fact that I can't help but befriend everyone?

Hello again, fellow few who read my blog!

First of all, I found housing. Not sure when I am moving in- it is complicated. I'll find out more tomorrow. Eventually I'll let you know about it.

Second, I am an Aunt again/ still. I love the idea of being an Aunt. Heather is now a mother of two: Sebastian, a 2 year old boy, and Liliana, a newborn! I wonder when I will meet her.

Now, on to my blog post. This past Saturday, after poking at every housing lead available, I took a little pink bike, newly adopted, to a bike shop I'd never been to before. The shop is in Mt. Vernon.

As I was getting oriented, getting off of Mt vernon (Bart ... um station? It isn't Bart. It is New York- Metro North.... but I want to say Bart!), I started talking to some firefighters and other men outside of a bar. A bunch of older white guys (actually I can't remember if it was only white guys but that was my impression), who were concerned with the safety of a sweet lady such as myself in that neighborhood.

I told them I would be fine, that I've been in worse neighborhoods. I think they are mistaken in thinking that that neighborhood was as bad as the worst parts of oakland. I felt safe, in spite of getting catcalled more than usual.

When I finally got there, there were a whole bunch of steps. Kind of silly for a bike shop.

The place was a bit disorganized.



It used to be a tattoo parlor. There were remnants of this, like windows that had the tattoo buisiness' name on it. I didn't take too many photos, because that would feel awkward. I'm sure I will visit again. bikes and tools everywhere, and a kitchen area, bike routes of new york in the bathroom, and a mural. And a very friendly cat.



The man who owns it is very friendly, and likes to talk my ear off. I spent hours there, because he let me work on fixing my own bike (which you can see above, bottom left), and I'm not a great bike mechanic. It is good to learn. He fed me chinese food and orange juice and charged me less than the cost of the supplies I used, I think. I told him I had been spending all week looking for a place to live, and he half serious offered me to stay in the bike shop, but we agreed that that wasn't a great idea. There are a lot of reasons, perhaps the least of which that it is a bike shop: It is in a pretty bad neighborhood, it would be crowded with Wilson living there also, and also wouldn't seem like a permanent idea.

The guy reminds me of Bob. The beard is the same, and he loves to talk. They talk somewhat similarly.

Oh also I found an Irish diner on the way home that I can't wait to try!

(the bicycle shop is http://bronxriverbicycleworks.wordpress.com/)