This scooter makes my a$$ look good, Part Deux!

"Hey, baby -- if I stare at the side of your head
long and hard enough, will you give me a ride?"

I wrote a blog a few months ago about being hit on at a stop light. Seriously, it's weird. I get hit on more on my scooter than I do in bars, which leads me to believe men really like women who drive vehicles they have to straddle.

So, I'm recording two more incidents here for your amusement. I work hard for you.

A couple months ago, I followed some friends' cab to our second locale for the evening on my scooter. Apparently, their cab driver took a fancy to me and told them he thought I was really cute, and my friends decided to be in a good mood and actually said nice things about me. Now, I always feel fairly certain that I look like a complete and total dork in my helmet, as I have said before, so I'm never in the mindset that a man will find me irresistible as such. But he ended up asking me for my phone number after I fake drag-raced him to the bar. (<-- Ladies, feel free to use that one. It's cute and silly, and it gives the driver a chance to be manipulative charming and let you win.) My brief time with the cabbie did not turn into eternal, dying love, as one might imagine, but I did get a fun ride-along date out of it -- meaning, I rode with him in his cab on a couple of client pick-ups, you pervs. And now every time I see a Yellow Cab drive by, I can fondly (bemusedly?) think back on a relatively crazy, pot-smoking, ex-military, mostly-bad-boy-with-tattoos cab driver who at least was nice to me and didn't throw me in his trunk and take me to a deserted warehouse and handcuff me to a pipe where hot steam would soon blast in and and melt off my face (please tell me you get the 1999 "The Bone Collector" movie reference there, lest you think I'm really, really, REALLY creepy).

The other story was a few weeks ago. I was sitting at a light around 10 pm downtown when I became vaguely conscious of a man on a motorcycle to my left, softly revving his motor (yes, because as you know, the sound of revving motors really makes our lady bits tremble, fellas!). Again, because of the helmet-dork-factor coupled with the fact that most motorcyclists' reactions to me on my scooter range from condescending smiles to outright disdain, I wasn't really thinking he was trying to get my attention. When the revving failed to make me squeal with delight like I'm sure he was used to, however, he called over to me, "Hey, you look good on that bike!" He had this really ridiculous "seductive" look on his face, as he continued, "Wanna take a RIDE with me?" Oh, good Lord. Props for effort, laughs for delivery, my friend. I laughed, shook my head, and said, "No thank you!" He took off ahead of me when the green light turned, and I'm glad I wasn't actually interested, because his stupid Harley almost made my ears bleed. (Pointed look of outright disdain.)

In conclusion: I'm just sayin', if you're single, a scooter could seriously improve your odds (with some odd men, but as we get older we become far less picky, am I right, ladies?).