I’m Sorry, I Can’t. I’m Canadian

I love Citibike. I hate Citibike. When we’re getting along, $24 buys me a week of unlimited 1/2 hour trips anytime I want, all the way from midtown down and over to Brooklyn. Stations of bikes at least every 2 blocks. But Citibike is moody. Sometimes Citibike won’t accept my credit card, won’t let me return a bike, or take a new one. Sometimes the stations are full (but only when you’re trying to return your bike). Sometimes, they’re empty (but only when you want a bike). Other times, Citibike is all goodness and light.

We sorted out our differences after 20 minutes of bike wrangling this morning, then my ride and I raced down the River Walk so I wouldn’t be late for my 8 am start.

It’s New York Primary Election Day today. I’m not sure what it all means – after today, there’s a potential run-off for Mayor in October, and then another election for all the marbles in November. Back home, we’re exhausted living through one Mayoral election every four years. We fill in the in-between time with crack videos. I asked a cop at lunch time what he thought. He wasn’t too sure, but he was certain whoever wins is a crook. If the crook can make Citibike a little less bipolar, they’d get my vote.

Got out of class at 5, grabbed a bike for the hot, humid ride home, and took Mordecai out for some fun. Gill had taken him over to Union Square this morning, so we walked down to Leroy’s dog run for a change of pace. Wouldn’t want a dog to get bored with New York City. Lots of retrieving, lots of wading pool lounging.

We walked back to the apartment through the Village, and on every street corner at least one campaign representative stopped me to ask if I was voting this evening. I said I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m Canadian.

Gill, Mordecai and I walked around the corner to Chelsea Ristorante on 8th Avenue to have some dinner. They took great care of us, setting us up with a patio table at the entrance so Mordecai could relax and watch eager voters pass by. Vote early, vote often.