Glad to be me

I was leaving a bar the other night. I unlocked my bike and went back to the entrance to say bye to the owner, who was outside smoking. He looked at me as I started to bike away and said, “Man, it’s cold out. I’m glad I’m not you!”

I didn’t know what to tell him. I like biking? I’m not cold on my bike? Why would it somehow be better to walk home? If only you were me, you’d know how fun biking is?

Whenever I bike, I always think I look so cool. But then I’m reminded that to the rest of the world, even the world smoking and shivering outside bars, people biking by are just weird losers.