Sweetpea Bicycles

The week before last was an incredibly wet week to be a bike messenger in Portland Oregon.

Most of the time rain is just part of the routine; fenders, rain jacket, pair of wool socks, and you’re set. But every once in a while you get one of those monsoon-type deluges from which you can’t run and you can’t hide.

I’ve decided that the worst part is not being soggy all day. The worst part is being stuck on elevators forced to field weather-related questions. The most common are:

“So, is it wet enough for you?”
“Is it raining yet?”
“Staying dry out there?”

After answering the obvious for the fortieth-or-so time on any given day, my diplomacy starts to crumble. I have come to feel that these questions are all answerable by the sound of water:

Water dripping off my helmet.
Water squishing inside my shoes.
Yes, it IS wet out there.

It was on such an afternoon that a fella walked on my elevator and asked me, “So, is it raining out there?” Making no eye contact and attempting my most robotic monotone I said, “Yeah.”

He then launched into the following monologue:

“Oh really? Because I just came in from NY City yesterday and it has been raining really hard ever since and I knew that Oregon was rainy but I didn’t imagine it would rain so hard for so long and I just love Portland, you know?

Everyone is just so friendly here!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I had thrown my best anti-small talk kung-fu at this guy! I thought my tone and steely stare had conveyed my very best disgust! What could I do?

I had to admit defeat. I didn’t even register on the NY rude-o-meter.

So, my steely stare softened and for the remaining 22 floors of our elevator ride, I played the part of the friendly Portlander, telling him what I love about this city and what he should see while he’s here. And even that the rain isn’t so bad.

“You’d be surprised - you get used to it.”