I am your typical middle age guy wondering what’s next. Until recently, I have never ridden a motorcycle. In fact, I have never even looked at a motorcycle with interested let alone been into a motorcycle dealership. So why the sudden interest in motorcycles? Well, to be cool again, I guess. To be noticed again. I used to have a build that would catch the eye of the young ladies at the beach. The build is still there though, it has just repositioned itself on my body. So I need a little external help to catch their eye again.
General perception is that bad boys ride motorcycles. Well bad boys also get the hot girls! So maybe I have one last chance at being a bad boy! Or at least faking it with a bad-boy looking motorcycle. So I ventured off to our local Harley Davidson dealership to check out the “rad” machines. (I guess I need to start talking the lingo now.) One can hear a Harley dealership before one sees the dealership. In fact, one can smell it before one sees it.
I had to dress the part before I walked into the dealership. So off went my chinos and preppy sweater and on came my Levis and leather jacket. It was an old Michael Jackson Thriller leather jacket. Zips and all. The only leather I possessed. It screamed “I’m bad!” so it would do.
Entering the dealership was like entering a chrome palace. Every machine glistened and shone and they were all lined up in rows, separated by color. Orange was certainly the new black at the dealership with orange and black their focus colors. Trying to look informed, I walked down one of the isles, touching the seat of each of the motorcycles until I was approached by Harley salesman. Now these are not your typical looking salesmen, they certainly are not the type to be hired by a store selling washing machines. These guys look and talk as if they just walked in from a heavy night!
The salesman spoke Harley talk and I was clearly out of my depth. I had to think quick, either bolt or act cool. So I nodded my way through his sentences. Walked up another isle and then back to my car. Being cool Plan A did not work so it was time for being cool Plan B, off to our local Porsche dealership.