True story. I'm almost embarrassed to say. But hey, if you can laugh as much as we do over it, then it's all worth the short-lived humiliation and subsequent new perspective on life.
My fiancee is a life-long, old-school biker; our present Harley-Davidson motorcycle is a rather hot item, his 29th, so far. He's also a former professional bodybuilder - and now a mere, frail 245 lbs compared to his majestic 275 lbs during his competition days.
Poor guy, but it was a freak accident. A commercial double-garage door failed,
(after our ride together) and came down on his neck while parking his Harley. Go figure. If I could have captured that scene on video, I would have - but he dropped me off at home a mere 10 minutes before it happened.
Needless to say, our prized hot item (aka: purple monster) was gauged and damaged under the garage door, but not as badly as my fiancee's newly broken neck. Thing is, he didn't know it at the time. Nor for several months afterwards, as his musculature masked the condition.
Where's the humor in all this ?
OK. Imagine if you will a rather average chick with braids and a beanie, commandering a monster-macho, obnoxiously ear-splitting, custom chopper... and a 250lb "Ol' Skool" Biker with a 16" goatee wafting in the wind - from the bitch seat.
NOT NORMAL, by any prospective viewer.
His screaming out loud in the corners didn't help much - even though I'm a very good driver. He says he's just not used to being a passenger. I blame it on his goatee in his eyes.
At first we got a lot of honks from passing vehicles; then a ton of thumbs-up and peace signs accompanied by vocal approvals.
I thought maybe it was because his beanie had a sticker that said "HELL ON WHEELS" - and it could be more easily read from where he was sitting; raised up a little on the 'Queen seat'.
Soon plenty of amused tourists tried to capture our photo using their handy cellphone cameras, as we rumbled past them in the downtown core, at the foot pace of a geranium.
Soon I hit a red light, right in front of a patio bar packed with visiting sailors. My manly-man fiancee realized there was no escaping this unwanted limelight. He threw his fist in the air and hollered, "I'm the Biggest bitch in Victoriaaaaahhhh!", to which the crowd arose with beers in the air, and reciprocated something that sounded like amused approval. Again, a barrage of camera flashes hit us.
At that point I figured we could make money online, or Ebay at least, with this kind of paparazzi -or morally criminal- photo opp exposing this uber-masculine Harley-paradox.
Like a Sasquatch sighting.
And Tourist Season is here again. Now about those Ebay auction thingies...
B-E-A-Utiful.
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