Several weeks ago, he asks me if I wanted this: the Ducati Monster.
M'what?
Where the heck did that come from?
He scoffed when I told him I wanted this:
How cute is the Gap Crazy Stripe Vespa?
So he tells me that he thinks it would be cool for me to get a motorcycle and ride with him. I wouldn't have been more surprised if he had asked me to become a stripper. Not to mention the thought had never crossed my mind to have a motorcycle.
This continued over the course of several days with him picking my brain as to my enthusiasm of having a bike. One night he says, "On a scale of 1 - 10, how interested are you in having a bike?" My answer, "Um, 2?"
See, here is how the whole motorcycle thing has gone in our house. Lovey had a bike (which I loved, not that I don't love the current on) when we first met. I would hear him pulling into the parking lot and watch him (through the blinds) come around the corner to the apartment.
For all of the time we've been together, it's been this way: He goes riding with his friends on Sunday afternoons; I go to TJ or Marshalls or Target or deep-condition/exfoliate. It's his guy day and my girl day.
Never would I have thought to try to invade this guy inner sanctum. Bikes are his thing; shopping is mne. But the more I thought about it, the more flattered that I became. How cool is it that he wanted me to ride with him? That he wanted me to be a part of that part of his life? Like I said, I love that boy.
I still don't want a bike though....Unless I can have a helmet with shoes on it.
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