Pedal Strike

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November 11th, 2009

superstitious americanos

Like most girls, I secretly love checking my horoscope. I am inclined to believe in compatibility between certain astrological signs but will freely disregard the day’s predicted fortunes if it is clearly not in my favor. The next day, I’ll get just a tiny bit excited if “flirtatious encounters” are included in the day’s fate.

Granted, horoscopes tend to be as hit or miss as my blind stabs at concepts of Corporate Taxation, but that doesn’t mean that superstition has no value. Because when things consistently line up and bring good things with it, that’s enough to have me convinced that luck might just exist [and doesn’t hate me].

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You’re dying to know this lucky correlation, aren’t you? It’s actually fairly old news, but one that, I believe, somehow creates this awesome situation where great minds come together to form and execute some fairly incredible ideas. Take one serious cyclist, mix with one part Asian-sensation-cyclist-blogger, brew with two good Americanos, and you have a winning combination. Great ideas will flow. I promise.

It’s consistently yielded results; t-shirts, designs, a crew of friends in NYC, and more written words than I can remember typing. How else can you explain the moka pot logo of Embrocation Cycling Journal, their uber secret Mad Alchemy coffee embrocation, the Giro d’Italia espresso machine at NYC Velo, and the beginnings of Outlier [they met at a coffee shop]? It’s like a ritual that has to be done between pedalstrokes for amazing to result. Offer me an Americano, while I’m still slightly sweaty from a ride and there’s a good chance something awesome will happen [and I’m talking platonically, people].

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So it’s a little hard for me to turn down an offer to bike over to a reputable cafe that can pull good shots of rich, dark brown inspiration. Cafe Fixe serves up Americanos that, with one sip, will nearly blow your face off, but when M1 comes up to Boston to use my apartment as a base camp for rides to Dover visit and offers to meet up after class, something out west was a little more appropriate. Good thing the Boston Globe did an article on good coffee shops a few weeks ago and mentioned Taste Coffee House in Newtonville.

A plan was formed and duly executed. And while I hesitated over a latte or a regular coffee or the go-to Americano, the last won out as usual. Sipping the dark liquid in shorts due to the incredible weather, the stage was set for some prime scheming. Caffeine making my brain buzz, we chattered and came up with new designs, ideas, and between sentences, commented on the perfectly balanced Americanos.

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That cup fueled me through a ride amped up by the persistent buzzing of M1’s freewheel behind me. I was breathless when I got home [I had casebooks on my back!], but still humming off the adrenaline and caffeine, even took the Dolan for a quick spin.

I have more plans later this week for coffee. Regardless of my daily horoscope, though, I know this one’s going to be equally awesome. Call me superstitious, but I plan to get an Americano. That means good things are gonna happen. Trust.

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