I ordered a sandwich from Jimmy John's this afternoon which was delivered in the typical prompt fashion by a heavily tatted and generously bearded bicycle courier. The courier saw my Atlantis, parked in my office, and became so distracted after ogling the various details that he walked out the door without handing over my lunch. He sheepishly returned minutes later, bid me* bon appetit*, and asked a few more questions about how to twine and shellac handlebar tape. I find the courier crowd generally hard to impress when it comes to bicycles, and briefly imagined myself to be hip.
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