Friday, March 25, 2011

What would you add on a 2012 Sportster?

Take a moment from whatever it is you're doing. Put down the homebuilt pleasure fleshlight you made out of a Pringles can you hide behind the toilet plunger and take just a second to walk through your personal man-land (that would be what your wife thinks of as her kitchen when she's cooking, but your "space" after diner and it's time for you to do the dishes and don't forge to take out the trash. And don't forget to take out the trash from the bathroom either damnit!). Somethings not right. Is this your alternate reality? Let's check.
You thought this was the perfect image of your future dream wife. Even if red heads ain't cho thang', oriental, dark, albino, amputee, whatever floats your boat. You think of yourself as a trend setter, someone who makes decisions and choices based on individuality right? Admit it. It's the first step in recovery.
But this is how you ended up "single" in a relationship again. You spent your childhood dreaming of the day you'd purchase your first bike. You'd do anything to get out on the open road. Adventure, freedom, never trust anyone over 30, that would be (you) "ME!" 
 Now open the door leading into the soccer mom (and you don't even have any kids!) mini-van "car house" and take a look at you're old Magna parked between the sewing machine and the assorted Martha Stewart (those are yours hu?) gardening supply storage cubbies. That bike got you laid didn't it? At least you rode it to school a couple times before you dropped out of community college, got a job flipping burgers and your best friend (who worked as a swim instructor at the local plunge and gave you all those free one-on-one lessons, before he was arrested DUI with a gram of meth, a loaded weapon and a fanny pack full of gay porno magazines) sold you the bike broke down taking up space in the (what did we used to call that room? Oh yeah, Dad called it a "gar'rawg!") the GARAGE. "Dude. All it needs is a new battery and a minor carb adjustment. I could do it but I just don't have the time (in prison)." The bike got you laid alright, laid in a gutter when you dropped it on the first corner your turned. "I think I'll take it... how much did you want for it?" Nothing says learners bike louder than a dented tank.
Then something happened. Maybe it was all those Tivo episodes of Renegade with Lorenzo Lama you watched? Maybe it way the way prostitutes laughed when you broke wind and felt compelled to share your most intimate thoughts and dreams? (They'll pay for it later...) Maybe it was the irony that every time you were parked in traffic on the 405 in a polyester suit that fit too tight, a motorcycle would roar by your open window (no air conditioning really payed off) and deafen you for a few minutes. That deafness was a blessing. It drowned out the soundtrack of your life. The one that made you want to slit your wrists with broken glass bottles as you attended the latest moral building workshop where you listened to an assistant managers assistant explain the overly difficult and complex principles of "good" customer service in the fast paced fast food industry. "Of course you'd like a Soft Serve cone Mamm. It's the only way you've ever had it." Instructional manuals are now issued on CD Rom. You are encouraged to study at home. WTF?
Learn the new "biker wave."
It's a woman's world boys. How can a man use this on himself? I'll lead you through it... Turn your hand upside down. The top two fingers (now on the bottom) should be inserted into the ventilation hole in your face. The pinky, used to pick a booger. Now pull trigger.
(You thought) The Dealership was your Savior.
"Can I help you with something?"
"Yes. I'd like to buy a set of testicles please. But not too big. I can't afford your biggest set of balls."
"Nor should you try the biggest first. I think I have the perfect bike for you... Have you heard of our Sportster line-up and officially licensed products that are a "must have" go along item(s)?"
"No. Tell me more."
"Okay, wait a sec... there's a class starting in just a few minutes you might be interested in attending."
"Welcome Ladies. My names Midge and I'll like to introduce you to a bike designed specifically for you..."
But for a second. A mere second. You have a second thought. What if this bike was a step in the right direction, but with a shoe you didn't exactly fit into. High-Heels were okay to wear when that girl you dated in Hollywood asked you to "play dress up" with her, but she never actually satisfied YOUR needs. Sure, you could say you went out with your girlfriend. But really, all you did was "drag" it up while she used you to drive her around to dank bars as she trolled for large drunk black women to bring home. And in the morning, you'd end up driving them home too. Sleeping on the floor sucked listening to all that burping and eventual toilet bowl polishing.
Do you feel pretty?
What then does a Sportster need to make it the perfect bike for you? How about some heated seat cushion for cold night rides? No worry, that ain't going to happen. There's only one thing you know that strokes itself. I doubt you'd ride at night anyway. Cup holder? Metal flake paint? Matching metal flake helmet to boots? Some t-shirts that promote the dealership store who financed your bike? How about a coupon for $5 grand off the list price for starters! That's thinking too reasonably dummy. We're not talking logic here folks. Have you read anything at all I've written yet? I'm not going to repeat myself very often unless I have too. How about you (actually sitting) on it? Get out of the house and go for a ride. Now that's some class pet thinking. Yes. Go for a ride. That's what bikes are meant for anyway isn't it? Ok, let's try it some day then. The open road is calling you like the hungry Duran Duran wolf.
Well, the correct answer is this. Walk away form the 2012 Sportster no matter what incentive is offered to you. This is your early event warning. I'm like your personal Doc Brown and I just parked my DMC on top of your used Miata. "Come on Marty! There's a problem with your future. You've just purchased a new motorcycle from the factory!" Those scratches will buff out. Read this post, then read it again, and in the near future when you find yourself talking to the guy in the black and orange "garage" shirt, heed this advice and think about what I'm telling you. MY (yours) feet walking Michael Jackson moonwalk backwards (Look at me, I can do the Robot!) out of the dealership to the nearest computer for a simple Craigslist or eBay search for local $3K Sportster for sale. Do not sign on the dotted line. Do not initial anywhere. Don't talk, don't do anything. Just Dance your way out of the Dealership!
And I quote...
"Walk Away."

And for those of you who keep asking. No. I do not use drugs. Come on people, I'm preaching gospel here from the heart.

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