Lance has One

I'm driving home after a half day of work on a day that I was really supposed to be off, but that's not the point. As I weave my way down a single lane back road to my house I come across a biker. Not the motor cycle driving, hog loving, bad ass kind of biker but a guy on a ten speed, or whatever kind of gearing road bikes use these days.

He's dressed to the nine in an over abundance of biking gear. The swept back race inspired helmet, the tight spandex shirt and shorts with padding in the ass (not that I was concentrating on his ass), the flashy step into the pedal shoes and some designer sports sunglass. The entire ensemble was exquisite. Oh, and I'd be remiss not to mention the gloves if for no other reason than wearing any kind of gloves in public in the middle of summer is cool. The bike was equally as tricked out with super thin wheels that could cut a pizza or man in half, water bottles, multiple grip position handle bars and a shiny frame. He was basically doing his best impression of Lance Armstrong and was on point.

So as I'm driving by, admiring his fineries (let's just get this out of the way once and for all, I'm not gay), I notice he's got a full "sleeve", for lack of a better word, of a tattoo running from his ankle to his knee. I didn't get a great look at it but I thought I saw flames among other blurry images. My initial reaction, the first thing I wanted to do, was yell at him or clip his back tire or run him off the road and tell him,

"Hey dude, look, it's either the tattoos or the bike and associated paraphernalia. One has to go because you look absolutely ridiculous."

Am I saying that guys who like to bike can't have tattoos? Yup, that's exactly what I'm saying. At least not visible ones. They just don't go together. Maybe it's the associations I have with each that leaves me with such a foul taste when they mix. I don't know but I'm sure I'm not the only one to feel this way.