2005feb19. My girlfriend works on one of the upper floors of what could be called a “hi-rise” building. She’s near the receptionist’s desk when the elevator doors open, and two 20-year-old hippies walk out. With their bikes. They begin mounting their trusty steeds when the receptionist says “excuse me? Can I help you?” “We were wondering if we could ride our bikes around and look at the view!” said one, in a manner near wonderment. No irony, no detachment. “No,” said the receptionist. “Okay, thank you!” one of them said, and they walked their bikes back into the elevator and went down.
Big thing in Tucson, apparently. Do drugs, ride your bikes through the upper floors of office buildings. Some hippies have security badges. “DRUGGED BICYCLE VISITOR.”