Ode to the Surly Cross-Check That I Still Totally Do Not Deserve to Own
I'm sorry I haven't taken you outside in five days. I haven't needed to. I'm sorry about that, too. If I don't need you, then why do I have you?
I'm sorry I make you wear those ridiculous fenders and ginormous tires. Those big, squishy tires with the bad-ass treads are probably better suited for my boyfriend's hybrid bike. In fact, my boyfriend's hybrid bike is probably more of a road bike than you are, as I've set you up, even though you have the curly handlebars.
I'm sorry I don't utilize all of the available hand positions on your handlebars. It seems like a waste of a perfectly good road bike not to ride "in the drops" from time to time.
I'm sorry I don't actually treat you like a perfectly good road bike.
I'm sorry I don't actually treat you like a perfectly good cyclocross bike, either. Riding off into the mud and taunting my boyfriend while he whines about his tires doesn't count as cyclocross. But it's fun. But I don't need you for that.
I'm sorry I told everyone in the world that I was going to set you up as a touring bike and then failed to go on any actual bike tour with you.
I'm sorry I can't use you as a commuter, because I work from home.
I'm sorry that if I did use you as a commuter, it would probably be at some shitty job without indoor bike parking, so I'd have no choice but to leave you outside all day, leaving you vulnerable to the depraved whims of total strangers. Well, if you did run off with someone else, I guess I'd understand, but I'd still feel pretty hurt.
I try. You know I try, right? We have fun together, right? Right?