Ashley needed a new bicycle. She outgrew her old one several years ago.
Since Dick controlled the money, it was his decision when she would get one. However, he always had a multitude of excuses why it was never the right time.
There’s no money now…She never goes riding…There’s no money now…She doesn’t need one…There’s no money now…She has no time to ride…There’s no money now…She has too much homework…There’s no money now…It’s too early in the season…There’s no money now… It’s too late in the season…There’s no money now…
Amazingly, after the divorce proceedings were announced, Dick was ready to take Ashley shopping for a new bike. As usual, I was not included in the excursions. Only after they picked out a model they liked, was I told that we were going back to pick it up in my car because it would fit in my trunk.
A few days later we returned to the shop only to discover that the one Ashley picked out had already been sold. We were told that a new shipment was coming later that week and a brand new one would be available. After looking at the floor sample , I realized that the bicycle would not fit easily into my trunk and mentioned that we should buy a bike rack.
Dick totally dismissed what I said. He adamantly insisted that the bike would fit fine in my trunk. An argument between us immediately ensued. At that moment, it was more than obvious to anyone around us that we had major irreconcilable differences. It was also more than obvious to me that Dick was not putting out an additional $50 for a bike rack.
Fast forward a few days…no new bikes came in.
After checking several of their other locations, I was able to track one down in a suburb about half an hour away. Ashley and I drove out there, made the purchase and asked the salesperson to load it in my trunk.
Following several attempts, he wasn’t able to fit it in and strongly recommended that we purchase a bike rack.
Because Dick only put enough money in the checkbook to cover the bicycle and I no longer had access to the credit card, buying the rack was out of the question.
So a decision was made to remove the front tire and maneuver the frame into the trunk. Due to the shape of the handlebars, the door wouldn’t close around it and had to be tied down.
As we drove, the trunk kept banging down repeatedly onto the handlebars. Each nasty thud simultaneously reverberated throughout my body causing me to hate Dick more and more.
When we arrived home and removed the bike from the car, there were several scratches all over the shiny new metal on the handlebars. My heart sank as I looked at Ashley and her damaged new vehicle.
To make a lousy situation even worse, no matter how hard Ashley and I tried, we weren’t able to get the front tire back on the bike. The brake mechanism was broken.
I then called the shop asking for advice and assistance. I was told to bring the bike back and they would fix the brake. Knowing without a doubt, that wasn’t going to happen, we needed to come up with another solution.
Dick said I should just find a friend who had a van and ask them to take the bike back for me. I told him to find a friend who had a van and he should ask them to take it back for him. That sparked World War III.
Ashley wound up giving me $50 of her money to buy a bike rack.
The next day I went back to the shop and bought the rack. When I came home and tried to put the device together, I wasn’t able to open the clamps. A few days later, Ashley and I decided to take the bike and the rack back to the store. I had a brainstorm that we should lower the back seats of my car, put the bike in through the rear door and adjust the rest to fit in the trunk.
As Ashley attempted to squeeze the cycle through the door, I noticed the handlebars were getting stuck on the leather trim on the door frame. I also noticed as Ashley continued to guide the bike into car, there were fresh gash marks surfacing on the leather trim.
Totally losing it at that point, I had a major meltdown. Shaking like a leaf and swearing and yelling like a lunatic, I was convinced I was having a nervous breakdown in my driveway.
Somehow Ashley managed to extricate the bike from the car and we forced it back into the trunk along with the malfunctioning bike rack.
Once again we were on our way back to the sporting goods shop. I was really starting to hate the store, this bike, Dick and every other person, place and thing that had ever caused me pain throughout my life. At the same time, my heart went out to Ashley and all the negativity she had to deal with in her young life.
When we finally arrived at the store, magically things began to improve. We were given a brand new bicycle, the technician at the shop fixed the bike rack, installed it on my car and fitted the bike onto the rack.
Looking back on this whole fiasco, I knew that all the problems Ashley and I encountered would have been avoided if Dick had bought the bike rack in the first place.
As usual, not only could he care less, he was happy to see how miserable I was. He was deriving some sick pleasure from watching me fall apart.
Worse yet, I knew he had a lot more plans up his sleeve for making my life a living hell.