The girl on the bike in front of me keeps showing me her panties. Well, only the band of them as she’s hunched over pedaling. But I can see their outline good enough through her shorts. “Sugoi,” it says across the band — I bet it means something in another language. We’ve been leap frogging each other since Fulton and Divisadero, even though I’ve been more than willing to lag behind and watch her calves flex under her olive skin. [...]