Now that I have fallen in love with riding my scooter (I claim ownership until the very moment it is ripped out of my hands), and gotten down the art of whipping in and out of traffic (and loving it), were at first I was completely afraid of learning to ride it and it took big guts to even rent the thing, I have decided to stop renting it and buy a bike instead. I Just can’t afford to keep renting a scooter every month, and with a bicycle at least maybe I’ll get nice legs. So today me and C went to Panjim to look at bicycles (among other things). I need a woman’s bike because I mostly own skirts but the only ladies bike in the store was completely covered in pink, from the rear to the basket. I’m not even talking 80’s punk pink, but Barbie doll pink. It was a big human size barbie bike that said Miss India on the side. I kindly said to the sales man, “it’s so pink!” I think that said enough, he laughed and pulled out a catalog with the bike in other colors. The maroon one was kind of nice. I wanted to try the bike out to see if I liked it, but since the pink one was the only one there I had to ride it. The sales man brought it outside for me and as he was adjusting the seat I was looking around embarrassed. I felt pretty silly with this bright pink landmark sitting in my grip, and had an urge to explain to everyone passing by that I wasn’t actually going to buy this pink bike, I am only test driving it. Then I suddenly remembered that Cafe Coffee Day was right above me, I looked up to scan the balcony for watchful eyes and noticed a very large westerner sitting at one of the tiny tables. He was so tall his arms took up the whole table, his torso swallowing his laptop and his knees practically touching his ears. Seeing how out of place his tall body was, yet not out of place, I realized, I am in India nobody cares about me and this bright pink bike.

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