Gotta Scoot

A foray into the world of the 2-wheeled amateur

19 August 2007 Double lives

How often have you led a double life? For many of us, the teenage years provided the fertile soil in which our tendencies to say one thing and do the other grew like a field of wildflowers. Just think about the number of times you said, “Sure mum… I promise I’ll be home by 11… no, I’m only going to the movies to see ‘Driving Miss Daisy’!” 

For some of us, this rigorous adolescent training comes in mighty handy. Especially when one’s mother has maintained a hard-line stance summed up with the simple words “you’ll ride a motorcycle over my dead body!” 

One day my girlfriend’s mother comes to visit – a once a year occurrence that always has us changing water in fish tanks, scouring ovens, scrubbing toilets and squeegee-ing windows until all is squeaky-clean and in record timing. This occasion is the first visit since the purchase of the scooter back in April. And so it is that I begin depositing my ideas into the local Bank of White Lies:

“Oh that thing? We’re minding it for a friend…”

“Yeah – that next-door neighbor is a real hoon! wakes us up with that engine roaring at 2am every morning!”

“Who on EARTH has parked this scooter in my driveway?! I will speak to council about this first thing Monday morning!” 

Of course we’re rather lucky here folks – we live in a block of eight units, so it’s unlikely she’ll assume that the scooter is ours. That is, unless she spots our gear. 

“Why don’t we just take our helmets, jackets and gloves and shove them in a laundry basket with towels on top?” Felicity asked.

“Because your mother would lift the towels up and find them,” I patiently reply. 

“What about in the cupboard?”

“Your mother would open the cupboard door and find them.”

“The toilet?”

“Your mother would open the lid and…”

You see, the mother of which we speak is the meticulous type. She likes to inspect and suggest, and is generally none too pleased if we don’t placate with the usual ‘oh – what a great idea! wish I’d thought of that!’ She also likes to poke around. 

Needless to say, I load up the car with everything from our riding gear to my collection of Australian Scooter Magazine, my scooter manual, extra sets of keys and a nice-looking Vespa key ring that Felicity bought me from Europe. I drive the car well out of sight. I cover all in the back seat with a blanket and hope that the cops don’t think I’m harboring a corpse. At least nothing incriminating will be found… at least, not this time.

That morning, we open the door and launch a barrage of smiles as we show mother-dearest around the house. She turns to face me squarely. 

“That scooter downstairs…” she begins.

“Yes?” I hesitate. 

“I saw it in a catalogue the other day. Nice torque… fair bit of power… should ride pretty well on the motorway. What do you think?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t know, Sandy! Never ridden one myself,” I stammer, all the while smiling nervously. 

“Good… because If you ever do, you can forget about marrying my daughter.”

“Lets have some tea, shall we?”    




August 19, 2007 - Posted by | General Riding, unusual experiences


  1. Miss your blog, bud. Hope things are alright with you. Take care.

    Comment by Dave | December 21, 2007

  2. That is probably one of the most funniest stories I have hear in ages. You should put all of this stuff plus your travels in a book! Would be a best seller hahahhaa

    Comment by Julia | January 21, 2009

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