virayvibe | 
12 3rd, 2008| 
I used to commute. In a car, not on a bike. If I commuted on a bike I’d be really in shape, I guess, but instead of maintaining my muscles, I took care of my car. It may not be the cleanest one on the lot, but the oil was always fresh, and the tires rotated on schedule. I didn’t want any surprises on my commute. No breakdowns, no crashes, no pulled muscles.
At first glance, my car’s service record may appear to be perfectly normal. But one of my non-commuting friends remarked that I must have an unnatural fondness for hanging out at my dealership’s waiting room while my precious wheels are up in the air.
