Halfway There

The halfway point on my bike commute between home and work is on the Isle of Alternative Lifestyle in Garden City. Sometimes when I go past there - and by sometimes I mean every freaking time - I think to myself, ‘self, I’m halfway there’.

And then I think to myself - and by think to myself I mean singing out loud - ‘WHOA-O living on a prayer datta datta da da…’ I would sing more but I don’t know the words. Knowing the words of a Bon Jovi song is a violation of man law.

Freaking Bon Jovi.

I realize that singing Bon Jovi ballads while wearing spandex on the Isle of Alternative Lifestyle is probably a bad idea, but somehow I just can’t help it.

If you don’t believe me you could come down and loiter on Isle and wait for me to go past – but I think that might be a misdemeanor.

You should all try it. I mean singing out loud at the halfway point, not loitering on the Isle of Alternative Lifestyle. Unless, you know, that’s how you role.