scottelbot is on his annual pilgrimage to california, and as always he placed a reservation at the chateau (that's what we call our house, i'm not sure why). he arrived today, on what is quite possibly the hottest day ever (unattractive note here: it was so hot i swear my knees were f'ing sweating), stopped by my house, cleaned up his act, grabbed my helmet and picked me up from work.
while i have been on a moped, and a scooter, i have not been on the back of a motorcycle since i was a kid (i was 5 the last time). i am also a pretty big safety nerd and think motorcycles should be driven in proper attire like leathers and denims. so when scott said, "are you dressed for this?" and i said, "no, but pick me up anyway." it was sort of a surprise even to myself. i mean i was wearing a short-sleeved summer dress with slip on shoes. definitely not clothes for the situation.
luckily for me scottel can handle his wheels and we made it home in one piece.
ps. i hate the hot. hate it so much, my bones are melting and soon i will be a puddle of goo.
pps. it was a fun. now i want him to take me to work too.
ppps. if you had seen my dismount you would have all laughed. it was about 30x less graceful than a 12-year-old boy dancing at the school dance. and i'm talking about the nerdy one, not the kid with the smooth moves.
