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Adventures in dating: Do bikers have more fun?

August 31, 2011
By Dina Z. Colada
Well, I’ve been having fun doing research on motorcycles for this issue. I’ve found a motorcycle term glossary, but to me it sounds more like a sex glossary. Maybe bikers do have more fun. What do all these words mean anyway? I’m sure you’ll figure it out.

There are lots of riders out there but are many of them single? Well, I know at least one single waxer (a guy who spends more time waxing his bike than riding it) I went on a date with. Before he picked me up, he said to a mutual friend “All I’ve gotta do is get her on the bike.” Hmmm, what was he thinking?

I was looking out the window and saw him cruising down the street on a his two stroke, yellow easy rider with ape-hangers and big fat boy tires. It looked to me like this iron butt wasn’t driving a bagger. He comes up the stairs and I hear him knock. I open the door. He sure looked handsome in his white t-shirt and jeans and I was feeling pretty sassy in my hot pink leathers. We walk down the stairs to the curb and he says something like “hop on honey.” I gave that naked bike’s top end a look over.

There was only one tiny curved seat, just enough room for his bottom end and certainly not enough room for my rear sets. He says to me “You can sit on the fender.” What? Are you serious? Maybe his hard tail was ready for a ride, but this motor maid was really having her doubts. He wanted to see how tough I was. The trouble light went off under my beanie.

But I thought I’d be a dual sport, and let him take me out on the twisties. He pulled hard on the throttle, hammered down, and showed me his horsepower by thrashing it as we headed toward Daytona. This bike had a lot of pull, and I was concerned about the integrated brake system functioning and even more concerned about my helmet hair during this little tryst. But we didn’t get far before we had to bust a get off and he pulled out his E-Z out bolt and stud extractor. I thought there was a problem with his shaft drive because he wanted me to hold his wrench. Oh no! I got black stuff on my new hot pink chaps!

He wanted me to give him a jump start, but I told him I was no grease monkey and I was too busy putting on my lipstick. Then I realized it was only a flat. Whew. I was glad I didn’t have to do any more dirty work. That wrench just didn’t go with my outfit. I was wondering how I got myself into this mess without a two-up. At least his hard tail wasn’t a beater after all.

The heat showed up, helped us fix the flat and we were back on the road. But my booty was tired of this fender and I wanted to go home. I don’t think his headlight modulator was working either, because I wasn’t impressed and he didn’t get to use the E-Z pass with this newbie.

I’m thankful that I didn’t eat any asphalt, and walked away road-rash-free, although it was a great learning experience. He learned not to pick up his date on a hosed bike, keep at least one new rubber on board, and buy a suction cup seat for his lady passengers. I learned that black leather is best and only ride with bikers who keep the shiny side up and and dirty side down.

Dina Z. Colada is a life and dating coach, Reiki Master, writer, speaker and creator. If you have any questions or comments for her, don’t drag your pipes. Hammer down and shoot her an email at dinazcolada@gmail.com or send comments to letters@graffitiwv.com.
 
 

 

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