Motorcycle Madness

I got a motorcycle for Christmas when I was about 12. It was a "Honda MB5" built for only one person and could be driven on the road, but still I drove my nieces and my sister around whenever nobody was looking. It was a great two-wheel vehicle, and I got a ton of enjoyment out of the thing. Looking back now, I cannot imagine what possessed my Mother to agree to me owning a motorcycle because she was so overprotective. Now, even my husband won't agree to let me have one... maybe I'll eventually wear him down.

What is it we chicks dig about motorcycles? I've been a fan ever since fifth grade when I pledged my eternal love to "The Fonz" during Happy Days re-runs. From then on, I was hooked. Whenever I would see one on the road, my heart would leap and my imagination would run wild with fantasies of riding off on the long highways with a handsome, roughneck on a "Hog". Fonz was the least of Mama's worries, however as this obsession would later in life cause me to, in fact, make a couple of not-so-phenomenal decisions.

First came Bob. When he was in High School, he was one of the most popular guys who received honors such as "Most Handsome" and "Best All Around", etc. I knew who Bob was, and although I was still in elementary school, [as you remember I have told you I was always boy crazy], I had an insane crush on him. I was 10 or 11 years old and he worked at the local movie theatre. So I embarrassed myself a time or two making 'goo goo eyes' at him whenever my Dad would take me to the movies... He didn't know, nobody knew. But I did.

When I reached the age of about 16, I met up with him again (he was about 23 by this time). See, I was burning up the roadways in my 1977 Chevrolet Impala. It was a big heap of metal, that old car was. It had only an A.M. radio but it got me where I wanted to go, and that was to chase Bob around on his Motorcycle. Sometime he was driving his car, but I was totally infatuated with him by now, so I didn't care what he drove anymore. If he was around town, I would make it my business to be somewhere in the vicinity. He dated "Carmen" off and on... she was an older, popular blonde bimbo that went to our school, with quite the reputation. Still, I actually thought I had a chance with him.

Finally, I had decided that Bob was the guy I wanted to lose my virginity to, so I wrote him a long and detailed letter telling him exactly what was on my mind. We drove through the apartment complex near the college where he and friends used to habitually play Hacky Sack, and I handed him the note. When I think back about it, I had some Stugots to do this.

He took it from my hand, smiled with those wicked green eyes and said, "Thanks." We remained in the friend zone and he never changed the way he treated me, but he never mentioned my note or what I had proposed to him... Eventually, life changed and we didn't see each other for a long time, then it was just off and on. He ended up getting married to a girl named "Susie" who he had gotten pregnant, and I had moved on to so many other "Crushes" since him.

That is, until one fateful day in 1993 when my friend Shiree and I were on our way somewhere-as we spent most of our time on the road-we again spotted what we thought was a 'hottie' on a motorcycle. We chased the guy up the Interstate, through about the next three exits to try and catch up to him. Finally, he pulled off at the Hernando exit, and so did we. Lo and behold, it was Bob. History certainly does repeat itself sometimes. We chatted for a bit, then we went on about our business, but now we knew where he lived.

Something wouldn't let this rest, and it echoed in my head that he'd said "Y'all come up and see me sometime." So later that evening, I went back to Hernando... this time, by myself. I caught him at home, and we sat outside talking for a good while. He and Susie were no longer together, and we caught up on old times... he then brought up 'the letter' that I had handed him those years ago. He admitted to me how he had thought seriously about doing it, but that all he could imagine was being in front of the judge and going to jail... we had a good laugh. We saw each other a few times after that... it's funny how sometimes reality doesn't even come close to living up to your expectations, isn't it? Some things are just better left a fantasy.

"Live To Ride, Baby!"

Then there was "Midnight". He happened during my Community College days, still some of the best days of my life looking back. It was during the greatly fulfilling era when I was gainfully employed by Wal*Mart Stores, Inc., and working in Ladies' apparel. The night happened to be a quiet one, and I was manning a small 'phone booth' that we housed in our department, where the store made it the duty of the members of the Ladies' apparel section to answer the phones and to make all of the Intercom pages.

So, there I was in the booth when my co-worker, Sherry's boyfriend Stanley came through the department to see her, and some of his friends were with him. I knew one of them, and recognized the other guy, Darryl Ingram. He was a roughneck looking guy, and I had seen him around campus on his motorcycle. I had noticed him, and thought he was hot. Even though he was rotten and completely wrong for me, I was totally attracted. He came over to where I was sitting, came straight up to me while the others were making conversation and blurted out "Hey! When are you going to let me take you out??"

I gave him a sly smile back, and said, "I don't know... you gonna take me riding on that motorcycle of yours?"

He said he was having some work done on it but would oblige with a ride as soon as it was fixed... So, I gave him my dorm room phone number and it didn't take him long to call. I don't know really if you could say we really "Dated", but we had some entirely fun midnight rendezvous. So much so, that my niece, Stacey (a year younger than me, and at the time attending the same college but different dorm) began to worry that I was out of my dorm way too late. She would leave me painfully concerned messages, and poems and silly bored commentary. She affectionately nicknamed Darryl "The Midnight Caller", and eventually shortened it to simply "Midnight".

I'd either pick him up in my Pontiac 1000, or he would pick me up in his old beat-up Datsun (just until he got his motorcycle fixed). Midnight and I "dated" until I met and fell in Love with my cute puppy-dog eyed Marine, Lee and that was all she wrote. I immediately kicked him to the curb and stopped answering his midnight calls.

All's fair in Lust and Harley's I guess... But you know? Come to think of it, I never did get that ride on either their motorcycles... the jerks.