i have had “get a motorcycle” on my Long-Term To-Do list for several years now.
because, you know, motorcycles are cool and i would be cooler if i had one.
back in December, during my Law School Winter Break i decided to take the first step to getting myself a motorcycle, which was to get myself a motorcycle license.
i went and took a two-day motorcycle license class where they taught me and several other guys how motorcycles work in the parking lot of a dying mall.
we rode our training motorcycles around in slow-speed circles for a day and a half learning how to do things like turn the motorcycle on and turn the motorcycle off and drive in a straight line for a hundred feet, and drive in a straight line for a hundred feet and then turn left.
after none of us caused our training motorcycles to explode and only one dude crashed his, the instructor pronounced us all proficient and gave us certificates to take to the DMV to exchange for motorcycle licenses.
so that was Step One. Step Two was to actually acquire myself a motorcycle. that's the hard part.

there are three obstacles that stand between me and being able to acquire myself a motorcycle.
the first is that i don't have the time to motorcycle shop.
with the demands of Law School sucking up all of my time, i'm lucky if i can find the time to shower twice a week.
going out motorcycle shopping is an extravagance i just cannot spare.
the second obstacle is that i don't have the PSE with me on this project.
normally, everything that i have done for the past twelve and a half years has been with the PSE's support.
i delegate to the PSE large swaths of my life, leaving her to largely execute whatever plans i decide on.
but, the PSE is surprisingly steadfast against me getting myself a motorcycle.
she is convinced it will ultimately end in be becoming a brain-dead quadriplegic that she will have to feed, change and water for the rest of my suffering life
the PSE doesn't want anything to do with that so she has taken the position that she does not want me to have a motorcycle.
we have actually had fights about it.
it is the first time that the PSE has outright refused to aid me in a project, and it is kind of a huge problem for me.
what the fuck is the point of having a girlfriend if they won't help you with your projects?
if this was television, the PSE would have forbid me to get a motorcycle because wives on TV are always the worst but fortunately, i am not that kind of sucker.
i will do as i please and the PSE can either deal with it or leave.
but the PSE has refused to aid me in the project, which makes it all that much more difficult because after twelve and a half years of codependency i don't even know where to begin with doing things for myself.

two weekends ago, with my second semester at Law School winding down, a confluence of events conspired to provide me a less-then-totally-busy weekend.
i went on the Craig's List and looked under their Used Motorcycles For Sale section and found exactly what i was looking for.
i was looking for a cruiser-style bike, i wouldn't be caught dead on one of them Jap rice rockets, but, because Harley Davidson are both really, really heavy and really, really expensive, i would have to get a Jap cruiser.
the motorcycles that fit what i'm looking for are Yamaha V-Stars, Yamaha Viragos, Honda Shadows, Honda Rebels, Suzuki Intruders.
entry-level Jap bikes that still look somewhat cool. in black, of course.
normally the bikes i could find on the Craig's List that matched what i was looking for were between $2,200 and $3,000, which was more then i was hoping to spend.
but this time, i found a black 2007 Yamaha Virago for $1,500.
well shit! let's go buy this bastard!

i got myself all excited, imagining that i was finally going to be able to get myself a motorcycle.
finally going to be able to cross something off my Long-Term To-Do list.
finally going to be able to ride around looking cool like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Terminator 2.
i contacted the guy on the Craig's List and he gave me an address out on the east side of Dallas nearly an hour away.
never mind the fact that the PSE was still in the Drug Study at the time and i wouldn't have any idea how to get both the motorcycle and my car back to my apartment in Fort Worth, or the fact that it was Saturday and my bank wasn't open to take out $1,500 to actually buy the thing, i wanted to get this deal done.
i'd work out the logistics some other time.

so, i grabbed the Monster and we drove an hour east to the far-side of Dallas.
Google Maps led us to a trailer park under the highway.
i drove into the warren of White Trash until a guy on a motorcycle came and found me and led me back to his trailer.
he was a short little White fellow, stocky, showing off all his tattoos from his neck all down his arms under his wife-beater.
on the porch of his trailer, the guy's wife or sister or wife/sister and daughter/wife luxuriated in their denim cutoffs.
the bike for sale was suppose to be for one of them, it's a lady's bike, but i guess they would rather have cash instead.
after shaking hands with the White Trash i put the Monster back in my car and got on the motorcycle to take it for a test-drive.
i could not make it go.
i let up on what i thought was the clutch, i twisted what i thought was the throttle, i kicked at what i thought was the gear-shift.
none of what i thought i recalled from a day and a half's worth of motorcycle class did anything to make the motorcycle work.
because, despite being licensed by the State, i don't actually have any idea how to ride a motorcycle.
which is the third obstacle i face in my mission.

after a few minutes of watching me fumble with his motorcycle the White Trash asked me “you, do know how to ride don'tcha?”
“sure, sure i do...” i said, lying.
“an actual motorcycle? not a moped?”
i told the guy that i held a Class M motorcycle license.
he seemed to be relieved by that news but after another few minutes of me kicking at the gear box and trying to figure out the clutch the guy called it.
“okay, man,” White Trash told me, “i don't know that i feel all that comfortable with you on this thing...” and he shooed me off.
he assured me that the bike was in good working condition and, sure enough, it seemed to be, but i was terribly embarrassed by the whole situation and couldn't wait to retreat back to my TITSwagon.
i thanked the little fellow for his time then drove fifty-five minutes the fuck back home to Fort Worth, dejected and defeated and emasculated and ashamed.

i don't know how people are supposed to buy their first motorcycles.
i don't know how i'm supposed to learn how to rise a motorcycle without a motorcycle to learn how to ride on.
do i have no other choice but to go to the Brand New Motorcycle Store and buy a Brand New Motorcycle?
i don't want to do that.
making this all that much worse is that fact that if the PSE was there by my side, i know i would have done much better.
other people make me uncomfortable but having the PSE by my side for things helps.
also, the PSE is much more mechanically-inclined then i am.
she could have figured out how that motorcycles works, no problem.
but the PSE has abdicated her responsibilities to me in this matter, which means that i might never be able to get myself a motorcycle after all.
what a stinking disappointment.

//[ab irato ad astra]

September 2017

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