*This is a post from my tumblr which I have wholeheartedly decided to stop using
As of Thursday, October 298, 2010, I officially joined motorcycle riders everywhere by bringing home my very own Kawasaki Vulcan 500. Friday I was initiated into the club by exchanging “the wave” with another of the two-wheeled persuasion. For those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about, “the wave” is a form of greeting motorcyclists use to acknowledge each other when passing. A feeling of excitement and pride filled my body and soul as I shot a peace sign at the ground. The wave was promptly returned and thus began the first day of the rest of my life. Since that moment, all I’ve wanted to do is drive the blasted thing around, I get anxious when 3-o-clock rolls around because it means the work day is almost over and I can go riding. I feel like a stupid little kid with a new toy but I can’t help it.
I’ve just gotten to where I can go above 25 and not freak out because I’ve convinced myself my speedometer is wrong and I’m really traveling at least 95 down a neighborhood street. It really is a different experience though, and there are a lot of things I’m going to have to get used to. The main thing being the mentality that if someone hits me, oh well, my car is a piece of junk anyways so no harm-no foul. But now it’s a big-time foul because being hit means instant death, or at least a whole lot of pain. But as I’ve been stuck in my 4-wheeled cage it’s given me a lot of time to think about the benefits of being out in the open air, not surrounded by strong, protective steel specifically engineered to keep me safe in even the worst of collisions. For one thing it will force me to slow down and take my time when traveling places. I won’t be able to tail people who piss me off and I’ll have to drive defensively again. This should remove a large portion of anxiety and stress from my life because the majority of people seem to be awful drivers and I’ll have to stay on my toes to keep out of their way.
So in addition to slowing down my lifestyle, it’s also giving me the cool factor that I’ve been needing. While I’ll be the first person to admit, I’m pretty awesome. Allow me to take a second to list my best qualities. First I’m the funniest guy I know, second I’m a real charmer, third I’m a good test-taker, fourth I don’t have a ridiculous amount of body hair, and fifth I’m just plain awesome. So you might be asking yourself…self, I just don’t think he needs a cool factor; in fact he sounds pretty awesome to me. Well you’re right and you’re wrong. I am awesome but I’m just not that cool. I drive a 99 Oldsmobile Alero with scratches and dents all over it, and I can’t grow a proper beard. So along with adding the coolness of riding a motorcycle, I also grew a mustache, only to learn that I can’t actually grow a mustache very well. My father, on the other hand, who also rides a motorcycle, can grow a sweet-ass mustache and I figured, hey…I’m my father’s son so let’s give this a go.
Epic fail.
So I’m just going to have to take the points I get from the motorcycle and hope that it makes up for my quirkiness, inherent geekiness and lack of sufficient facial hair. So to all you motorcyclists out there…deuces to the ground and keep the rubber side down…to everyone else…please don’t run in to me!
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