It is not even a midlife crisis. I passed that expiration date decades ago. I mean, I’m almost 76 years old.

Thing is, I didn’t pluck one out of a catalog, all shiny and new and bristling with speed and 18 gears, and potential. And maybe an electric motor….

This one was leaning up against a garage entrance on Calle 28 de Abril in Colonia San Antonio, like an early morning mezcal-sopped tourist on shaky legs. It was tethered to a rope from inside, and it had a for-sale tag, but I had no time to read it.

It just looked so sad. Covered in dust, a patina of rust over the frame.