The AC was blasting, and my friends and I were drowning in our iPhones.  Eventually the instagrams had gotten repetitive–there can only be so many beach photos– and we had watched all the Vines.  I was ready to leave the couch and meet the outdoors.  I had the brilliant idea of going for a bike ride. If the hipsters and Brooklyn moms could do it, why couldn’t I? My brother and father are big bikers so luckily I had three bikes in the back room.  The back room is very crowded,  and there is little room to move bikes.  Not only that, but no one told me that bike handles can very easily hit you in the face when you lift the bike.   We had made it out of the apartment and now had to face the stairs.  Many people in Brooklyn have the luxury of a brownstone or an elevator,  but others don’t. I had some experience with bringing my bike down the dreaded stairs, but my friends had not.  It was amusing to watch them struggle with the wheel for extra leverage, and hearing the yelps of pain when the pedals spike into their legs.  We finally made it out! We were free, ready to roam Brooklyn.

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