The Myth, The Legend, Mister Sudsy Butt

Seen on ride: a wicked case of sudsy chamois.  Ala comedian Daniel Tosh, let’s see how many jokes we can get in 30 seconds.  (Tick Tick Tick)  Where do you put the bleach?  It looks like your load is off balance.  Wash and wear?  No.  Wear and wash.  That’s obviously not the delicate cycle.  Thank God I’m only seeing the rear.  I'd hate to see what extra starch looks like?  If the suds turn brown I am so leaving a gap.  That’s one way to keep your white saddle white.  Stop by after the ride and sit on my car.  Wonder what’ll happen if he farts.  Looks like someone ran out of quarters.  I hope that’s Tide and not Pantene.  (BUZZ)  And, that’s time!

Sudsy Butt Can Be A Good Thing

Laughing, I almost got dropped, twice.  LOL indeed.  We misjudged the weather Saturday morning, already a half hour from home, we were committed for 3 ½ hours in the rain.  Luckily the temperature setting was switched to warm.  It started with one bubble, but as my teammate's legs churned through the downpour and road spray his but started to froth.  Somebody either has a bad rinse cycle on an aging washing machine or can’t read the measuring lines in the detergent cap.  Detergent left in his shorts was reactivated with the rain.  An hour and a half into the ride he had a rabid dog foaming at the mouth in his shorts.  I lost two wheel lengths laughing when the suds balls caught the wind floating them in the air like a seeding Cottonwood.

Photo proof: Courtesy F2BBlog.com

I’m upset I didn’t get video, or at least a photo.  This (left) is the only photo I could find online.  Riding a paceline on the Saturday Morning Beatdown in a downpour was hard enough, let alone trying to pull my phone out of my pocket to snap a photo while trying to hold a wheel at 21mph with spray in my face.  This is precisely the reason photos of sudsy chamois are so hard to come by.  Catching a photo of Mister Sudsy Butt is like Bigfoot.  You’re so terrified at the moment, concrete proof remains elusive.  

Never Trust A Guy In Jean Shorts

9-1-1. What’s your emergency?

There’s a shady looking guy in our parking lot going around to car doors and opening them up.

What does he look like?

He’s bald. Stocky. White guy with a white t-shirt and jean shorts.

Right now there’s probably a little carbon fiber, scandium or titanium out in your parking lot at work. In some cases it’s probably worth more than the car it’s in or on. You might even peer out the window at work or occasionally check on it to make sure everything is okay. Enter big bald guy in white t-shirt and jean shorts. You see the dude open up a few car doors in your parking lot and then he starts walking toward your car. You’d be on the phone to the cops in a second right? Right?

That was my case Thursday. A co-worker came into my office and said, “did you see that guy in the parking lot wandering around, he really creeped me out.” I walked to my 4^th floor window which overlooks the parking lot and peered down. “There, there he is. See him between the cars!” The guy opened the passenger door on a dark car. “Well maybe that’s his car,” I thought out loud. “He just opened the back door to the company van.” Uh oh, we better call the cops. “He just opened the other van door!” By this time I was fumbling for my phone and the guy was walking toward the other van, parked next to my truck with my Jamis Xenith Pro in the back. I dialed.

After I hung up, someone behind us said, “Uh I think he’s an intern.” The room fell silent. The police were on the way. I laughed. That’s what he gets for looking shifty and being completely unaware of the message his actions and appearance were sending to the entire building. Reluctantly, I dialed back and cancelled the call. Certainly, if a similar situation arose again, I’d call the cops again. There was no time to rush around the building asking if he worked here. Besides, the boss put the nix on wearing T-shirts to work long ago. Later I learned he was out there helping put equipment in the vans and had arrived early. I posted the embarrassing incident to my Facebook friends. Coworkers expressed comfort that at the very least someone was looking out for their cars in the lot. Two mountain bike buddies said, “Never trust a guy in jean shorts.”