Friday, March 23, 2012

Swagger Wagon Meets Motorcycle

I've still got it, even in my Swagger Wagon.  Yeah, baby!

Ha.  Seriously, I just assumed that minivans were hot man/cool people/good time kryptonite... it's a logical conclusion, right?  Minivan = tied down, boring, soccer mom/dad... you get the drift.  Nobody looks twice at someone driving a minivan - it's not sexy, edgy, or even interesting.  (No use arguing, everybody knows it.)

Well, today I'm sitting at a light in the aforementioned rugrat-bus when a hot guy pulls up beside me on a motorcycle.  Yeah... I looked.  He was H.O.T.  Muscles (but not too much) in all the right places, a moderately broad and muscled upper-body, confident posture, young, smooth skin, tan....

*pauses to wipe drool off keyboard*

Oh yes, where was I?
So, I'm looking (OK, staring...) at this guy (hey, I'm married, not dead) and very much enjoying the view when he catches me looking.  Of course, I immediately flush a fetching shade of pink and quickly look away... who wants to be ogled by a minivan-driving, middle-aged, harried mother?

Apparently this guy.  At the very least, he sure as heck didn't seem to mind.

I look back over right as the light was changing... he looked over, grinned a big, slow grin, and peeled off at the light.  Then... then, he popped a wheelie.  On his motorcycle.  You can tell I don't get out much, because that macho display impressed the hell out of me.

Woo whee.  Is it getting a little hot in here?

Yeah.  I don't get out much.
It's kind of nice to know, though, that the minivan doesn't immediately add 30lbs to your visage and turn you into a hairy-mole pariah as I'd previously feared.

Score one for the Swagger Wagon!

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