I met a man today on Little Longsdale street as I was walking towards my spanish class. He was walking towards me. Well, jogging really. He was a tiny man, tiny to me. He could've been about 5'6" tall. Not more. Skinny, spectacled and he wore his bag across his body - one of those sling bags that look too small to hold a laptop but too big to hold anything else. He was about 30 steps away from me and for a brief instant, we made eye contact. As he walked closer towards me, he stopped and picked up his bicycle that was chained to a pole. It looked like someone had knocked down the cycle while hurrying down the narrow footpath. He picked it up, steadied it against the pole, and continued his hurried walk past me. As he did, he looked at me again and smiled...
I saw him board the tram towards the city and looked back at the bicycle that was now leaning against the pole instead of the footpath. He didn't have to do what he did. He could have just walked past or stepped over. He could have just let the real owner pick up the bicycle, minutes or even hours later. But he stopped for those 40 odd seconds to do something kind.
I saw him board the tram towards the city and looked back at the bicycle that was now leaning against the pole instead of the footpath. He didn't have to do what he did. He could have just walked past or stepped over. He could have just let the real owner pick up the bicycle, minutes or even hours later. But he stopped for those 40 odd seconds to do something kind.
It's the little things...when I have to lock outside, I always try to make a point to lock through the front wheel as well as the frame, since that does a lot to stop the bike from falling over when it's locked to a poll. Not so much an issue for me anymore though - I have a folding bike that I can take inside with me just about everywhere I go. I do take it on the train with me in the morning too - that way I don't have to walk to work from the end station.
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