On Buying A Motorcycle

[Listen to an audio version of this blog HERE.]

I bought a motorcycle in July. I just needed to feel alive, I guess. My more typical methods weren’t cutting it anymore. Running, drinking, writing, climbing mountains, having sex, traveling, performing. All of it was either unavailable, stale, or bordering on unhealthy. Amid quarantine, I fished for new hobbies that would not be impacted by said quarantine. I tried painting, but painting requires a certain patience and slowness that entirely bummed me out. Besides, between writing and quarantine paralysis, I was feeling creatively tapped. I bought a nice camera and slowly figured out the bells and whistles, but still, my itch was not scratched. I decided I ought to learn something new, so downloaded Duolingo with the intention of learning Spanish. That soon grew redundant and stale as well. I was running into proverbial roadblock after roadblock when I decided to sign up for a motorcycle riding course.

Prior to July, I had only ever been on the back of a motorcycle, usually with dudes trying to impress me on dates. Now that I ride a motorcycle, I see them everywhere. I notice each machine, and the person riding it, and I’m here to tell you that I’ve seen thousands of dudes with a girl on the back but I’ve never seen, or noticed, the opposite. I’ve also seen far fewer females than males, which is neither here nor there. Here in…