UNDERGRADUATE ADMISSIONS at WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY in ST. LOUIS

St. Louis Spotlight: Big Shark Bicycle Company

It was a beautiful, sunny, and humid St. Louis Summer Saturday. I was innocently biking down the sidewalk of Skinker, admiring my aesthetically pleasing surroundings when I heard a loud pop, quickly followed by another. I felt my bike sink a few centimeters closer to the concrete and realized that I had popped both my tires on one of those silly bumps in the sidewalk. Figures. My bicycle is my lone, usually dependable form of transportation; it is how I get to work, how I shop for food, and how I meet up with people. This was going to be a giant inconvenience. I walked my bike all the way back to my apartment, feeling like everyone who I passed was secretly laughing at me. My general positive attitude had been deflated.

I was lost without my bicycle. She leaned against my apartment’s wall in shame, imploring me to take her out on the road once again. Unfortunately, my Washington University education could not save her. I don’t know how to fix a flat bike tire! But hey, I can write a mean paper on tearing down the patriarchy and can take an integral (with the help of integral calculator.com). Thus, I knew there was only one sure fire way to fix my bicycle, Big Shark Bicycle Company, located conveniently on Big Bend Boulevard, about a mile from Danforth Campus. I knew the men and women at Big Shark had the tools, expertise, and passion to fix my recent tragedy in life. The only question was how to get there. I couldn’t bike my broken bike, and I sure did not want to be a peasant and walk there. Luckily, my friend and fellow classmate had a car and a new bike rack to assist me in my journey.

The journey started with a long walk back from work to my apartment. I arrived and saw my friend trying to set up the bike rack. Following the directions was much more difficult than we anticipated. However, after getting a protractor and measuring the secant of the angle corresponding to the Taylor Series of the bike rack, we were able to successfully mount it onto the car. Just kidding, we actually just watched a YouTube video of some guy mounting it. We made a right turn out of the driveway and we were on our way. After an epic journey of three minutes, I saw the sign, Big Shark, towering over the rest of Big Bend Boulevard like Lebron James’ ego over the rest of the NBA. I walked my bike in and was greeted by several friendly faces. “Flat tires, am I right?” a guy said to me. “Hey that’s life,” I casually replied. I took it to the back where they have an extensive bike repair facility and was immediately greeted by a kid who had good flow and a hat, so I knew he was an expert. I handed him the bike, looked at Snapchat stories and bam quicker than it broke, it was fixed. They handed the bike back to me and I strolled towards the cashier and paid the reasonable fees. I exited the store and looked at the road with a new found vigor. My bike was back in action, ready to be ridden, the world was my oyster. I put my hands on the handle bars, my feet on the pedals, and road into the sunset like Clint Eastwood in an old western with the wind at my back.