A case of mistaken identity

I was taking the kids to preschool the other morning — in the eccentric way that I do it: Riding a bike. It’s an Xtracycle, which is what they call a “long-tail” cargo bike.

I have an almost-3-year-old in a kid seat in front of me, on the top tube. I have a 5-year-old riding on the back. I see another cyclist coming in the opposite direction, headed toward me. I’m going to turn left, and there’s plenty of room, so I make the turn in front of the oncoming cyclist.

As I’m turning, in full side view to this other cyclist, she says, “Oh, hi!” and waves. I’m not quite sure who this person is, but I go ahead and say “hi” and wave back.

Then she gets a little closer and says, “Oh, sorry, I thought you were somebody else.”

I’m riding an Xtracycle with two kids on it — and she mistook me for somebody else?

I suppose this is a good sign, people. And it certainly says something about south Eugene, where you can barely throw a stone these days without hitting some dude riding an Xtracycle with two kids on it.

And I suppose it suggests that I’m not nearly as eccentric as I like to think I am.

Which reminds me of a song I like. You know Clem Snide?

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4 thoughts on “A case of mistaken identity

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