Monday, April 27, 2009

Scoot


It was the end of August 2008. I was just working, minding my own business, when Steve, for no good reason at all, sends me a picture of a pink Vespa-type scooter. SO cute.


Much like the Kari Golf Bag, I think to myself "how can I get me one of those?". I could just picture myself cruising around St. Paul behind the handlebars of a pink motor-scooter. I would be the coolest chic in town. I would have a basket on the back that would hold my shopping bags. I would wear high heels, a cute vintage helmet and big sunglasses. I would pick up one of my lovely girlfriends and we would go sip coffee and tea on a patio in the city somewhere. It would be a positively lovely, Roman Holiday kind of life. Me and my scooter.


At this time, Steve and I had been sharing a vehicle for nearly a year. It's something we've coped with quite well considering that we lead very separate social lives. Many days, we're at the mercy of our wonderful friends to get us where we want to go. Other times, one of us is just stuck at home.


So I start asking questions about scooters. We discover that they're actually very affordable if you don't get a brand name (ie: Vespa) and you order one online (note: some assembly required). Within the week, our scooter was en route to our door.


We knew the scooter would likely be Steve's baby, so we opted for a more gender-neutral color: blue. Steve and his dad and his grandpa all worked together to get our scooter up and running. We named him 'Trigger'.


I enjoy riding with Steve very much, but apparently I have some fears when it comes to driving Trigger myself. Turning, for example. Very scary. Braking, sometimes leads to accidental acceleration. Also scary. I drove it once last fall and thought I did fairly well for my first time out.


Steve and I spent a wonderful day together on Saturday and drove the scooter to our local destinations. When we got back to our neighborhood, Steve stopped and told me it was my turn to drive. With some coaxing, I finally agreed to scoot us home. Again, turning and stopping is pretty intense. It's harder than I thought. I don't trust myself. Wearing heels is out of the question (for now). It's much more comfortable to wear my cute silver helmet with a face shield...which is not as cute.


This whole scooter thing has become a very humbling experience for me. But be sure I will tackle this challenge before the summer passes me by. Hold me to it, folks.

2 comments:

cheri said...

andrew and i shopped for a scooter for me once.... then i got pregnant. i don't think you can put the baby in the basket with your shopping bags.

you have to do it. for me.

Jilliebeanie said...

I'll scoot over to your place once I've mastered it. :)