My sailor rides a motorcycle.
I’m not motorcycle chick material. I’ve never ridden on the back of his motorcycle. I don’t even like to watch him ride. It seems so dangerous. Cruising along with nothing but a helmet between his brain and the pavement–there’s such scope for disaster. I can’t even think about it too much.
So he was surprised (in a good way) when I approached him with a grin.
“I’ve found the perfect bike for myself! We can finally go for long rides on lonely highways together!”
“You’ve seen a motorcycle you like?”
I nodded, waving my phone in his face so he could see the photo.
“You took a picture of a motorcycle?” Now I had his attention.
“Isn’t it cute?”
“It’s more runs to the mall than cross county rides.”
“Perfect! It meets both our needs! We can finally share my love of shopping!”
