I was on my way to work yesterday when I came across a sight that gave me pause: a fifty-year-old man dressed in a black spandex jumpsuit and a biker's helmet riding a unicycle down the middle of a residential street.

Now, I have nothing against the unicycle, per se. Especially when it is being used as a tool for my amusement. If you want to dress an overweight clown in a French maid outfit and make him ride a one-wheeled contraption across a tight rope in front of a cringing-but-otherwise-unsympathetic audience, I'm all for it. But it isn't really a practical device.

Don't get me wrong, I have mucho respect for all those hardcore unicyclers out there. They have a tough road to travel. A road filled with discarded Happy Meal boxes and empty Bud Light receptacles that must be somehow jumped or dodged by their wobbly black wheel. They are the true Protestants of the cycling world. Their motto: If something is easy, we can always find a way to make it harder.

However, there's absolutely no reason to ride a unicycle unless you're attempting to entertain someone else. None. It is not an efficient mode of transportation and I can think of a dozen other ways to get a proper cardio workout going. (Well, I can't, but someone who doesn't have to sit down after blowing out a candle probably could.) But this man was not attempting to amuse or impress me with his feats of balance and agility; he was just trying his damnedest to ride half of a bicycle down a poorly paved street, while I pointed at him and gawked shamelessly.

Kudos to you, Unicycle Man! You ridiculous freak! I doff my hat to you. (That's right, I said 'doff.' Deal with it.) Perhaps tomorrow you and I can build a DeLorean out of toothpicks and Bubble Yum and cruise the town looking for chicks. In the meantime, cheerio!

Want to comment on this Short Stories? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Short Stories and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...