My Feet have Gone Commando

No socks today. Despite my pre-ride packing ritual my socks have spun away. I'm bewildered, for as my wife can attest to my pre-ride ritual is meticulously long. And now here I sit as my ankles freeze under my desk.  Hey, don't judge, there is no rule #5 that applies to your dress code at work.

I could just wear the socks that I rode in with today. But stinky socks while at a desk job is against OSHA regulations. Instead, my feet have gone commando. That's right, my feet are bearing it all. I may even buy some sandals to complete the look. For today, my feet have declared Commando Friday, and there's no dancing around it. 

It could have been worse, I could have forgotten other items. And I've done that before. To commute regularly via bike requires quick thinking not only on the ride (such as when the IPA beer truck tried to swipe me and another cyclist off the road this am) but for the challenges you present yourself when you arrive. No shoes, no belt, no towel? No problem. No pants? Well I've had buddies just wear their tights all day. Takes a confident man, I'll leave it at that.

Today's story is complete. Short and fast just like my ride in this morning. Pretty much blew everyone's socks off who tried to keep up. Seriously.