In a culture with a fair share of effete, emasculated, green-tea drinking men, I am without equals.
My hands are absent of callusses. When the plumber/electrician/carpenter knocks, it is my wife who answers while I scurry to the back room to iron my dress shirts. I get uncomfortable in hardware stores.
As un-handy as I am, I can change a flat. Not only does it boost my self-confidence, I save money and time by patching tubes myself.
As I mentioned last week, my bike flats always cluster, and this morning - running late of course - I found my bike with its third flat in two weeks. Twenty minutes later, I was riding to work, comforted by knowing that I'd probably not get another flat for several months.
While I celebrate my limited bike repair skills, I don't change flats that I receive amidst my commute.
Instead, I walk to the nearest bus/MAX stop and have TriMet shuttle me and my bike the rest of the way. It's easier, I don't muss up my clothes or hands (yuck!), and I arrive in about the same amount of time.
Photo courtesy of OregonLive.com