One Night kickStand

A very sweet fellow who read a past post asked me to leave my Friday evening free, put on a skirt, and be ready at 6 pm sharp for a surprise. After many unsuccessful games of "cold. warm. luke-warm" or "swimming is to 'the surprise' as painting is to a song" (LSAT flashbacks!), I did as I was told and emerged clueless and in skirt at 6:09 p.m.

Where I found... there... on my very own doorstep... flutter-flutter the above sky blue Vespa a.k.a. the-coolest-little-thing-on-two-wheels-I-ever-did-behold awaiting lil ole me for a night on the town!!

I admit to letting a few nerves interfere with my initial display of excitement. I said I wanted a Vespa and that I wanted to ride it in a skirt, yes, but did I know HOW to ride a Vespa? Did I actually expect one to appear on my doorstep for a date? No, I did not. So instead of hopping straight on Her Adorableness, I did what any sensible person would do. I inquired into insurance coverage. Satisfied with the response, I headed to the nearest school parking lot where I would learn how to drive her properly. Who knew I was so responsible?

Part of my hesitation came from hearing that they're quite difficult to maneuver. Mais au contraire mon frere! En effet, c'est très facile! So easy that in no time flat I was ready to take Miss Winsome out into the jungle of Wicker Park. It.was.a.blast. Way more fun than I ever even imagined. No kidding. I'm officially an addict.

Imagine a jetski, remove suit, snowcaps and sporty and add skirt, potholes and cutely cartoonish... et voila! Vespa. As for the whole look, I'd say I was a little less fetching than my wish-granter might've imagined and a little more ridiculous (I've got the photos to prove it). Who knew I had such admirable posture? Ah but the foolishness just adds to the charm.

It’s true, I am now quite certain that I want one for my ownsome. Alas, with a tear and a smile, we dropped her off at the rental shop this afternoon, and I'm not ashamed to say that I already miss the feel of her under my rump. She'll always be the one who got away. I swear I would somehow own one within a week if only the weather here were more accommodating and I were rolling in dough. though they're not all that expensive. In lieu of awaiting beaucoodles of benjamins, I've started to consider selling off my car. Or my eggs. Clearly I need to let the jonesing fade a bit before I do anything rash...

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