Easy Rider-ish
When I was a teenager my father pointedly told me, “You will not date a boy with a motorcycle. Ever.” He was also the guy who made me ride my ten-speed on the sidewalk (I was officially a dork) and instructed me to always RUN when I crossed the street even if I had the Walk sign.
My safety was paramount.
On a side note: there was an add-on to the Guys You Can’t Date list which happened when my dad was driving and we pulled up to a red light. The bumper sticker on the vehicle in front of us said:
A boyfriend with a van was out of the question.
I actually feared motorcycles well into my adult life. I wouldn’t dream of riding on the back of a bike until something happened. I wrote about it in my post, The Bad Boy Experience, and once I felt the freedom of riding in the wind, I was hooked.
Many years after my first bike experience, I briefly dated a cop. He was a high-ranking guy in Metro, but started as a motorcycle officer.
He was kind. I was a single parent and just about as stressed as anyone could be with an intense job, raising my girls alone, and the dreaded monthly bills that always left me with less than I needed. I didn’t have much time for dating so we talked on the phone many evenings when my teenage daughters had gone to sleep.
On a few occasions (late at night) when I was at the breaking point he’d show up at my house on his Harley and take me for a ride. We’d go from Las Vegas to Boulder City and then he’d bring me home. My brain was finally quieted and I slept soundly on those nights.
Two months ago, my doorman, Frank, took me for a ride on his Harley after he’d finished his shift.
I was struggling with something I was writing; my brain on overload and I asked if he wouldn’t mind helping me out. We rode along West Side Highway, the Hudson River in our sights, and when he brought me back to the building I was able to finish the piece I was working on. He told me his beautiful wife loved to ride on the bike with him and he was one lucky guy.
I don’t want my own motorcycle. They still seem a little scary.
BUT, I’m now considering another option.
MN has a Vespa. Yep, told ya he was fun.
Click here if you don’t know about MN (Mr. Normal).
We’ve been on two more dates and at my request, he’s picked me up. We’ve ridden around the city, scooting in and out of traffic with ease. One evening he took me for a ride on his side of the Hudson and the view of the city was spectacular.
I’d also like to mention something I learned:
A Vespa is cool.
When stopped at traffic lights in Hoboken we were told, “Great Vespa!” and “I want one of those,” by two different carloads of hipsters.
Given the average hipster’s lack of enthusiasm for almost everything it was impressive. Although, now that I’m thinking, it could’ve been sarcasm (dreadful human beings).
Nonetheless, I’m considering getting rid of my car and Vespa-ing up.
I’m still having massive fun with MN, that hasn’t changed. We’ve gotten to know each other better–shared lots of stuff. I’ve talked about what I plan to do once my year of blogging about online dating is over. I’ve been brainstorming about ways to use these experiences to do something bigger.
On our last date he told me, “You’re moving at the speed of light and I’m at the speed of sound. We’re at two different places in our lives and I don’t know if this can work.”
It was disappointing. I didn’t see our different paths as an issue. Sure, he’s twelve years older and retired. But I’m not exactly dewy. I know, I’m just getting started with this encore career and there’s no doubt I’m crazy-driven. With the profession he had, he was once equally focused, except he’s not in the midst of that anymore.
I’m not sure what the outcome will be. Maybe we’ll keep seeing each other and it will play out, as it should or we’ll just be friends. Maybe if I get my own Vespa we can go for rides together once in a while. Who knows? I don’t feel the need to make any big decisions.
Instead I’ll roll with it.
PS-Dad, I know you’re reading this post. Don’t worry.
“You see, I don’t know how to ride a motorcycle, actually.” Henry Winkler
I remember one summer day, a boy I had a crush on pulled up in front of the house on a shiny new bike, eagar to show off. I was 17, flirting and giggling as he showed me his new toy.
All my hopes of a romance came to an abrupt end when my father opened the front door and spoke five words.
GET HIM OUT OF HERE.
Ha! Julie that is great! Good to know I’m not the only one with a strict father.
Ok, Melani…back when you first met MN we agreed that you were just there for fun…it sounds like you’ve enjoyed his company but he is still quite a bit older than you…heck, you’ve probably kept him youthful and relavant…if he’s not completely on board…get your own Vespa…sorry MN…I’m still just a bit sore about your original fib…
Motorcycle wise – YES! There is nothing better to clear your head…a couple of years ago I dated this big handsome guy with a Harley…he could flat handle that bike. We were the lead bike (of 25) on a four hour road trip to Eureka Springs and I was in heaven the whole way even though it was one hot mammacita! BTW, helmets are NOT optional…but standard equipment…hope you wear one on your new Vespa!
It is motorcycle weather now in Oklahoma…I have the helmet but not the driver or the bike….ack!
Very true, Dana. MN is all about fun–right here, right now. He’s probably correct about two different paths and he’s done all the things in his life career-wise that he wants to do. Being around someone who’s just starting all that stuff is probably not where he wants to be and I can’t blame him for that. The problem is he doesn’t want to date women his own age–never has. One of my friends said if I’d met him before he retired it wouldn’t be an issue. She may be right. I always wear a helmet.
Hi Mel. This is OT but your blog is one of my FB groups. Just out of couriosity, do you see what I post? It’s mostly political and I’m having a field day with this Thurston Howell Romney 47% stuff. You can be my FB friend if you want.
No, Mitch, I don’t see what anyone posts on FB even when they’ve Liked my Facebook page. Kind of crazy all these gaffs caught on video. Kind of like “Politicians Gone Wild” but I’m enjoying it.
Slightly off topic. But thought I’d share…
I know geezerhood is around the corner. It wasn’t too long ago I saw a photo of two young Hollywood personalities. Insert any two Paris Hilton, Kim Kardasian types. Both in bikinis, looking very attractive astride their motorcycles. My first thought “Oh my god, no helmets. No leathers!”
Steve, you are a riot! Can’t believe you didn’t get all pervy with the sexy starlets. Geezerhood, funny. Thanks for the story it made me laugh tonight.
Melani,
Stop over-thinking and just enjoy being in the moment.
As motorcyclists often say “Four wheels move the body, Two wheels move the soul”.
Feed your soul and stop worrying about the clock striking midnight………………..Cindy
Thank you, Cindy! You’re giving me that Life Coach stuff I need to hear. “Two wheels move the soul” is really true.
Get your Vespa. You won’t regret it. Nothing hotter than a woman who rides. Except maybe a woman with tattoos who rides.
Thanks, Scott. I’ll try my best to be a hot 51-year-old Vespa Goddess if I decide to buy one–it’s all in the helmet choice, I’m told. No tattoos, though, but you never know what I might do next. Thanks again!
My helmet is an Arai. Spend the money and get a good custom fitted one. You only have one melon!
What do you call a motorcyclist without a helmet??? A donor………….
Cindy
Yikes! Thanks, Cindy.
I draw the line at getting tattoos together! Mine would already have wrinkles. However, I’ll happily document the process if you decide to get one.
OK, Chloe. I guess I’ll cancel the appointment.
If George Clooney can ride one in The Descendants, you can ride one! I think they’re really cool. I want one!
Sherry, I agree!
As long as MN is incouraging you and supporting your future, continue to bike ride with him. As far as you dating others though, he would have to be too old and crazy to go for that. lol
Now that made me laugh, Noel!
I had a Honda Metropolitan…people smiled at me all the time, and there were a lot less asshole drivers after they had seen me! Go for it!
P.S. Vespas are kind of expensive though. The Metropolitan was much cheaper!
I’ll look into it, Hillary. Thanks!