There is nothing like the feeling of the wind brushing your hair back the way all the supermodels do. There is an inherent bubbly feeling when you see all the guys and girls oogling you as you hold onto a man because that's the only thing you have to hold on to. There is something sexy about being able to wear a black leather jacket for more than just show. I love the feeling of the vibrations of the machine that I straddle. While not quite a Harley Davidson motorcycle, I have recently fallen in love with riding on the back of my boyfriend's scooter. All the cliches that accompany riding a motorcycle definitely apply here. The freedom, the wind in your hair, the romance of the Italian vespas right here in America, the speed- because 40 miles per hour does feel a heck of a lot faster al fresco- and yeah, holding onto the person you love for dear life is kind of sexy and dangerous. When he first got the scooter we went out for a little spin and a pit stop at Chik-Fil-A. These two girls were riding a scooter right next to us at one point and we were both stopped at a red light and they commented on how cute we looked and how one of them was just talking about how she wanted a boyfriend. I couldn't help but smile and hold him just a little tighter. Yep, a few cars have honked at us-or so we think. Since I'm a city girl, I'm used to people honking if the car in front of them does not move the very nanosecond the light turns green, so I tend to tune out honking. But Sam notices and he's convinced they are honking at me. One time we were driving down Frat Row and these frat guys were hanging out and one of them yelled down to us "Fuck her!" Gotta love the obnoxious, hormone driven frat guys.
I wish I had a picture of the two of us driving off into the sunset on the scooter to post along with this entry. But alas, I don't.
