I buy a road bike.
Badger is doubtful. “Are you sure?” he asks. “I know it’s second-hand, but it’s still a lot of money.”
“It would be a lot more money if I bought it new. Think of how much I’m saving!”
He persists. “But will you use it? You hardly use your old one anyway, just to the tennis courts and back and even sometimes at that.”
“That’s the point. If I pay this much for the bike, I’ll force myself to use it so I don’t waste my money. In fact, I’ll probably cycle around more so I get my money’s worth! Ooh, I’ll be so fit, I’ll be so ripped!”
I have an argument for everything.
I bring the bike home and we admire it together. Badger admits that it does look very nice.
“It does, it does!” I’m very excited about my (almost-) new bike. I’ve even got a matching helmet! I’ll look so cool on my racer, flashing past everyone.
I wheel the bike through the house to the bathroom and set it up so I can admire my coolness in the mirror. I strap my helmet on and get Badger to hold the bike from behind as I pretend to zoom along the streets.
“Whoosh!” I mimic the wind rushing past me as I hunch over the drop bars.
“Whoosh!” I whizz around a pretend corner like in Le Tour de France, with one knee sticking out and Badger accordingly steadying my lean.
I am very pleased with how I look on my bike. Evidently money well spent!
Badger suggests that I take the bike out for a spin.
I remove my helmet. “Maybe tomorrow.”