The House of No (Part One)

See, silly immigrant that I am, where I come from, if you don't wanna do something with someone, you just say NO. N-O. Consonant, vowel. Probably one of the most universal words known to mankind. One of the first words that most children master. I'm 41 years old; I've heard it at least once or twice in my life. It's nice if it comes accompanied with a little white lie or something like that, but I'd rather hear it alone and buck-naked rather than hear nothing at all.

I gave him twenty-five minutes. I'd called The Other One the day before: You still in for Chinchón tomorrow? Nah, he says, I've got the kids and it's Hallowe'en and all, so I won't be able to ride. But if he can't go, he'll call you. He's good like that.

So, silly me, I stood like a fool and waited in front of the church for Whiteshorts for twenty-five minutes before I called him. No answer. No more waiting, I thought, and I took off. When is a plan not a plan in this country? I tried not to beat myself up about it, but it still irritated the hell out of me -- especially since I had sent him two messages during the week asking, first directly and then indirectly, if he was going.

I went to San Martín, I saw someone who looked suspiciously like Contador (but then again, the Vegas are full of tall, skinny riders with big noses, wearing Astana kit and riding Trek bikes. Contador, it seems, has more doubles than Saddam Hussein.)

I got home at about one. Five hours later, I got an offhand message telling me that he went north to Soto, and happened to run into a couple of buds on the way.

And if being stood up wasn't bad enough....at the clubhouse last night, the big NO came when I found out that both Whiteshort AND The Other One met up with the guys at Fuencarral that very same Sunday as if nothing had happened.

Wow. I know that I'm not as good as the other guys in the club, but I had NO idea that I was so bad that people feel they have to lie. There's probably nothing that's more effective at putting you off someone than to find out that he felt some kind of compulsion to lie to you.