I'd like to be clear. These aren't just any bikes. These are fat, shiny, Pee-Wee Herman boardwalk-cruising bikes with the seats lowered down and armpit cooling chrome handlebars added on. And they are always spotless.
Sometimes, they all converge on a house near the entrance to the trail on which Matt, Gunther and I go jogging several times a week. When they roll up, they park their bikes on a slight angle in perfect succession. It looks like there's almost exactly 8-10" in between each bike. Then they stand around, leaning against a wall, drinking Natural Light and eating pork rinds.
Also, Gunther has this amazing ability to bring joy to all who meet him. I don't think this is a unique superpower. I think that all corgis everywhere can do the same thing, just by sashaying their perfectly sculpted buns down the sidewalk on their improbably short legs and absurdly long torsos, navigating the whole way by echolocation.
Once, when I was out walking him, there was a small group of suspicious looking folks waiting at a bus stop. And I mean stereotypical--pants too low, shirts too big, black skullcaps, wallet chains and a surly I-just-don't-have-enough-constructive-stuff-to-do look on their faces, but as Gunther and I warily approached, their faces lit up and they began excitedly chattering amongst themselves about the Corgi (some choice phrases: "Man, I dig those dogs. They SO badass." "Damn, Man, 'so wrong. Lookit how short those legs are." You get the idea).
So, whenever we come across the local Latino Beach Cruiser "Gang", the same thing happens:
"Dude ya'll gotta check out this low-rider dog. Man, those dogs BADASS."
"Man, I know that dog! The Queen, she got dogs like that!"
"Aw, Man, it jus' ain' right. He's long and low."
We have now passed them enough on our merry way to and from our workouts that they have come to expect us, and Gunther will run to the length of his leash for a pet and a few complimentary "Badass dawg"s.
Hilarious! Dad and were busting a gut!
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