Queen of Wishful Thinking
I wish my bus pass would arrive in the mail already, so I could stop paying two dollars every time I ride.
I wish there were a bike room in my apartment building, so I didn’t have to haul my bike up three flights of stairs (with the alternative of locking it up to my apartment’s bike rack, which current has two stripped frames locked to it).
I wish my hair weren’t so prone to helmet head.
I wish the cute guy at work would notice that my messenger bag and rolled-up pant leg mean that I bike to work and think I’m cooler for it.
I wish a pair of shoes existed that were comfortable enough to walk a mile in, cute enough to wear out to dinner, leather-free, versatile, unique, with good arch support but also heels that made my calves look hot, and cost less than $20. (Who am I kidding? I wish they were free.)
I wish there were a bike lane on the four-lane road that constitutes the final three-block stretch of my work commute.
I wish more people would read and subscribe to No Car Go and that one day it will be as well-known as MTV’s Pimp My Ride—or at least Discovery Channel’s Monster Garage.
I wish the bike rack at my place of employment were more than six inches away from the parking garage wall, so more than two bikes could be easily locked to it.
I wish that the smell of gasoline weren’t curiously pleasant, because what if—just what if—that aroma actually provoked people to fill up their tanks more often and happily?
I wish my studio apartment allowed for better radio reception, so I didn’t have to suffer through fuzz to get my daily dose of Morning Edition. (OK, not car-free related, but I’m on a roll here.)
I wish that all of my car-free wishes would come true.
Your turn now. What do you wish for?