On a warm and sunny spring afternoon, this fair-weather cyclist heads for the nearest bike shop for a ritual common among sun-worshippers in this northern city: I ogle the selection of fashionable two-wheelers.
That's when I spot her: the "She Devil." Despite the imposing name, she's an unobtrusive Vermeer-like beauty. She's got classic curves, a creamy paint job. Best of all, she isn't blemished with ugly brand names rendered in scratchy typefaces.
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