Circumstances: The Bicycle Chain

I don't know if you know this, but I keep finding myself in astonishing situations where I quietly ask myself: "Is this really happening right now?" and since these situations seem to have considerable entertainment value, at least for my best friend — he always eyes me somewhat incredulously, fascinated by the chaos in my life — I thought I could process all my little or bigger strange situations here in writing. 

It was a balmy summer evening. I had just come out of an online meeting from my dark room and couldn't quite gauge the brightness of this twilight phase when I went to my bicycle, only to then cycle in great haste — I was, as always, somewhat late — to my appointment. It should be noted that I lock my bicycle practically intertwined with another one (handlebars in handlebars; pedals in wheel; complete chaos), since I'm otherwise unable to — and never without a struggle — close the chain (which means my neighbours regularly ask me if I need help).

I had now managed to extricate my bicycle from the other one, was already standing ready to depart on the street (helmet on but not fastened; light switched on) and was planning to sort everything else out during the ride (helmet fastened, cables, etc.) when I pedalled and it cracked unpleasantly. I pedalled twice more until my brain had finally processed what had just happened. My chain had jumped off the gears. Still with my helmet unfastened and without time or patience for the mishap, I knelt beside my bicycle examining the damage. Then a young man came by. "May I give you a tip?" he asked me and smiled down at me kindly. I squinted past my somewhat slipped helmet, swallowed the embarrassment of the situation — that as an adult woman I couldn't manage my bicycle chain — thought "now he's got the great tip for how I can get the chain back on quickly…", smiled back and said: "Yes, please."

The guy beamed because he apparently could be helpful. "Your light," he began and fiddled with my front light. "If you adjust that a bit lower, you won't dazzle any cars and you'll also see where you're going. My dog always goes mad when lights shine at eye level like that." It was fortunate that he was occupied at that moment adjusting my front light downwards. Otherwise he might have seen my bewilderment, which surely jumped from my face onto my hands, which were black with chain oil. "Ah," was all I managed. Visibly proud of his help, the young man looked at the light, which now pointed at the road exactly as it should. "Thanks," I murmured somewhat incredulously, still kneeling on the street. "You're welcome." The young man beamed at me again. He was already almost past when it seemed to occur to him that I hadn't yet remounted and cycled off with my now correctly aligned light. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" he asked. "No thanks," I murmured resignedly and stared at the jammed chain, which seemed to be mocking me with its absolute delight at dangling beside the cogs it was meant for. "Well then. Have a nice evening!" The young man smiled and went on his way.