You don't have to fit in everywhere

I went in with the hope that I would be taking my bike home at the end of the day.

Again, Billy was not there. But there were new faces and I met them and asked for their advice. I had the wheels and tires and a chain. I just needed brakes. Jack helped me out but by the time I had to leave we still hadn't put anything together. I put up the brake I was working on and when I went to leave Jack offered me a ride. He asked if I could try out his new project, though.

It was spray painted black. It was a road bike and Jack was just thrilled about these new brakes he installed. They were in the middle and even though he tried to explain to me how they were different, I still couldn't get it.

I took it outside where a group of guys in black clothes sat against the wall.

"Cool bike," one of them said. "I like the kick stand. It's so shiny." They giggled and I chuckled.

"Thanks," I said. "It's Jack's." I talked to the one of the group I'd seen inside. He was wearing an orange vest. "He can't ride it so he asked me help him out." I chuckled again. I knew when I said it that I was like Peter denying Christ, in some respect. But I felt uncomfortable. I didn't feel welcomed even though I thought I was fitting in pretty good.

I rode the bike and the back wheel came loose a bit and began to rub on the frame. I walked it back.

"Yeah, I can fix that," he said and he showed me how to put it on the rack on his trunk. One of the guys, a tall one with short shorts and a jester hat, was drawing with chalk on the wall of the building.

We drove home.

"Dang," he said. "I forgot my glasses. I'll get 'em next time."

At home I told Bekah that those guys bothered me.

"You don't have to fit in everywhere," she said.