New York City never ceases to amaze and entertain.

It is so easy to fall into a routine. Up early, hopped on our bikes and headed down the Hudson River Bike Path.

Tons of people, all shapes, sizes and outfits cruising on their bikes. It was the 5 Boro Bike Tour and I think that residents were inspired to follow the pack and put on spandex no matter the struggle.

To update, on the first Sunday in May, 32,000 cyclists come from around the world to roll through every borough of New York City on streets totally free of cars. The TD Five Boro Bike Tour is the world’s biggest charitable bike ride with proceeds funding the free bike education programs.

So, we joined the throngs who took the road not taken, grabbed life by the handlebars and explored the borough of Manhattan which was in full bloom.

The ride could have been perfection if the Entitlementors had taken a chill pill and followed the rules of the road. Even their kids darted out onto the bike path. Maybe the parents are stoned and are not concerned with brain damage on a sunny Sunday…whatever.

My Menopausal Super Powers keep me upright and steady and I aim to take out anyone, any age who screws with my cruise.

We went off road and tempted fate by traversing crosstown on Canal Street. We finally surrendered to the overcrowded roads and wiggle waggled through side streets that felt like Southeast Asia.

Destination was a new brunch place on Canal and Ludlow, deep into the Lower East Side. We navigated one way streets the wrong way, dodged pedestrians and finally succumbed and walked the bikes to Dimes.

Dimes is a tiny restaurant that just relocated from Division Street to its’ new home on Canal. The food is delicious and Californian influenced. Acai bowls, chia seeds, fresh fruit and hip hop droning in the background.

There was a 15 minute wait so we window shopped next door at Pies and Thighs and discovered amazing homemade donuts to rub directly on our thighs…how appropriate. We made the delectable purchase, each took a bite of heaven and then discarded the tempting taste treat.

We entered Dimes and settled into a small space so it was a wise decision to step away from the donut.

Dime is named after the clientele, all purportedly 10’s…I assume because the first wave of patrons were all models. Yesterday, was not super model day.

We sat next to a very attractive young Turkish couple and had an enjoyable chat about food, a great conversation opener and equalizer. She is an aspiring actress/writer and he wants to follow in his famous father’s directorial footsteps.

Only in New York, peeps. I can go weeks without talking to an interesting random person in Los Angeles. I do admire the east coast sensibility and mentality.

We free based our way home through a bustling Soho, West Village, Meatpacking district and finally hooked up with the bike path at the end of the High Line around 36th Street.

We were almost home and tush weary from six hours on the bike. We were about to hop off the bikes at the corner of Broadway and 67th Street.

An over 80, henna hued bitch with extreme bed head screamed at my husband to not ride the bike on the sidewalk.

I told her to calm down. We were dismounting. She had the audacity to tel me to go fuck myself and called me an asshole. We traded loving retorts.

Only in NYC do you do verbal combat with an 80 year-old feisty son of a gun.

Start spreading the news, despite some ornery citizens, this is the good life.