WHEN TING-A-LING DOESN’T CUT IT
Bet you didn’t know Auto Gigolo rides a bike as well as jammin’ around town in belchin’, smokin’, chokin’ automobiles.
Well, I do.
I was a bike messenger for about a year when I first moved to New York and weighed about 145 pounds. It was 11 degrees on my first day.
I’ve had about 10 bikes stolen over the years, not to mention seats, handlebars, tires, and anything else a guy can pop loose quickly. Fell just twice, once on a patch of ice at night, once when I hit a cab door which popped open like a trick snake out of a can on West 45th Street between 8th and Broadway. Cab driver took off. Unhurt both times.
But I never hit anyone. That’s because I have my eyes open, both for me and for you, Mr. and Mrs. O. Blivious.
Do I have a bell on my bike? No. The people who read as they walk, the people who take up an entire roadway with themselves and their dog and its 10-foot leash, the meanderers, the mentally deficient and the cloddish aren’t bright or quick enough to think whatever sound a bell or squeak-horn makes applies to them, if they hear it at all.
Know what I do? Bark like a dog. (As opposed to, say, barking like a cow.) It works every time.
Meantime, the guy in the video below has rigged his bike with a pretty fierce car horn, and he deserves to be checked out just for the innovation. I wouldn’t want a car horn on my bike myself. Just something else to be stolen, and I don’t think it’s necessary, Isabelle*. Enjoy.
*Auto Gigolo’s Dad and Auto Gigolo, age 40 and age 3:
Dad: Knock, knock!
AG: Who’s there?
AG: Isabelle who?
Dad: Isabelle necessary on a bicycle?
AG: HA HA HA HA HA HA
– Josh Max, Auto Gigolo