This is one of the many embarrassing things that has happened to me ever.
A few days ago, my friends and I went cycling. To be honest, I haven’t gotten on a bike in like 12 years. Due to my unfortunate overconfidence and my determination to be good at everything, I ended up humiliating myself in front of quite a large crowd.
We went to the park, which was crowded with all sorts of people. We walked down to the bike rental. And that’s when I started panicking. The bikes were really big. I didn’t realise how tiny the bike seats are, they looked so uncomfortable and high up. We paid for three bikes, and went around to choose the bicycles. I mentioned that the park was crowded, but to my dismay so was the rental.
While in the middle of choosing, I overheard a little girl trying to convince her mom that she didn’t need trainer wheels. I sniggered, because I remember quite clearly that the first ride without training wheels could be terrifying and quite painful.
I chose a bicycle which looked small, but was still very uncomfortable, and proceeded to mount it. Apparently you need to put down the metal thing that hold the bike stable (bike stand?), before trying to get on. I didn’t, and we almost fell, the bike and I. Lucky for us, my trusty friend Humi was next to me to catch me before we crashed. After a few more miserable attempts, I perched myself, rather precariously on the bicycle, while the previously mentioned little girl whizzed past… without training wheels. The the real torture began.
I couldn’t balance myself and Humi had to hold me and the bike steady. The I tried pedalling slowly, but to no avail. After another near fall, I realised I didn’t know head or tail of bicycle riding. I now considered asking the man if he had training wheels for the adult bikes. I gave up due to sheer terror, imagining all the gruesome things that could go wrong if I attempted to ‘get the hang of it’.
But Humi was set on us cycling the circuit together. And that’s when I realised one of my worst fears. She walked the bicycle and I, up and down the path, while I gripped on to the death machine with both my hands. People don’t know when to look away and mind their own business. They openly stared and some even had the audacity to laugh at me. If I had peachy cream skin, and was not brown (not being racist, I swear); this would probably be the part where my knuckles turn white because I was holding on so tight.
After a few more futile rounds with Humi holding me and the bicycle up, her will to help me cycle broke, and she surrendered. Returning the bike and very very carefully, with the help of both Humi and Ay, I got off the object of my fear.
I happily plonked myself on the grass, my back to the sympathetic smilers and head nodders, watching my friends mount their cycles and pedal of with ease. A while later the little kid, for whom I now have great respect, waved at me as she flew ahead. After a few circuits around the path, my friends pitying me seated alone, returned the bicycles we rented. My unknown fear realised and a lesson learned in humility, I left the park.
It was my most recent embarrassment. I don’t think I’ll ever get on a bicycle again. But then again, maybe I will.
That’s it for now,