Suburban tracker, Rage Pee and the Bicycle Store

Yesterday I experienced something that terrified me and made me almost pee my pants out of rage.

I went looking for a bicycle store in Redmond. Not just any bicycle store, but a store specifically called Performance Bike. Performance Bike is great because I can save five dollars if I shop there. Totally worth it. Totally. Worth it. In retrospect, still totally worth it.

So, Redmond is not very big when compared to real cities like Los Angeles or New York or Seattle. Redmond has a mall and also Microsoft. And a lot of millionaires. And about five dozen Starbucks. But other than that, it should be easy enough to find one lousy bike store.

I don't need a map to find Performance Bike, I know just where it is. I don't even need a navigation system, I'll use my suburban tracking skills to find this place. Just like my dad and my dad's dad before him.

It takes me a half hour driving around Redmond to find the bike store, everything is going perfect. But it wasn't. This wasn't the store I was looking for. This was Sammamish Bike. It wasn't the bike store that could save me five dollars. This bike store was worthless to me.

I was lost. Reality was setting in. The reality that I had no idea where Performance Bike was.

Then the terrifying thing happened. In that instant, parked outside of Sammamish Bike, I turned into my father. Like Dr. Jekyll turning into Mr. Hyde. Like Bruce Banner turning into the Incredible Hulk.

I found myself filling with rage and it was all Performance Bikes fault. How DARE they not being where I expected them to be. How DARE they?!?! It was Performance Bike's fault that I was lost. Performance Bike was at fault for all of my insecurities and faults. I was, in that moment, my Dad. I was flipping out irrationally and if a five year old me was in the back seat he'd have been frightened and nervous.

But then I calmed down and found it fifteen minutes later.