That Dirty Slut

January 30, 2009

When Herbie and I met (re-met, actually) about six years ago, he drove a nice, gentle Jeep Cherokee.  We made out in that Jeep a lot.  Then, a few weeks into our long-distance relationship (I was in Phoenix, Herbie in Seattle), he dropped a bomb.  He loved motorcycles.  Whoa.  Okay, pretty sexy – but also kinda scary.  Motorcycles are dangerous!  It turned out that Herbie not owning a motorcycle when we met was just some freakish rip in the time/space continuum – he got his first motorcycle in college (I think from a girl – I try not to think about that part) and has been a Motorcycle Guy ever since.

Two months into our relationship, Herbie bought a BMW motorcycle – the, um, R1100R (had to check with him on that).  Let’s call her “Rosita.”  Herbie and Rosita fell deeply in love.  At frst I didn’t know what to make of her.  When I visited at Christmas, it took me five days before I  went for a ride (but mostly because I was afraid of what the helmet would do to my hair).  After that first ride, Rosita and I grew to first tolerate each other, and then eventually we became friends.  I loved feeling the air swooshing over me when I rode with Herbie and Rosita, I loved singing loud inside my helmet, and I loved slow rides down windy roads.  And I especially appreciated how Rosita always brought my Herbie home safe and sound every night.  

After Moo came along, I rarely rode with Herbie and Rosita anymore, but Rosita and I remained friendly.  Herbie and Rosita still rode every day, but it was apparent some of the magic had gone out of their relationship.  Herbie started talking about his dream bike all the time – the BMW R1200C – “Cruzetta.”  He kept showing me pictures online, kept mentioning his “next bike,” and how awesome life with Cruzetta would be.  I told him to make sure he didn’t say anything in front of Rosita, but he must have slipped, because sure enough, Rosita started acting up a bit.  First she needed new tires.  Then her battery died.  Clearly, Rosita was pissed.

One day, Herbie got a call from his friend Kyle.  Kyle had his very own Cruzetta, but he hardly ever took her out, and so Cruzetta was looking for a new man to treat her right.  Herbie and I had a long talk and decided that Herbie would buy Cruzetta and sell Rosita.  About a month or so later, Cruzetta arrived and rolled up next to Rosita. 

Cruzetta was a hot young thing, newer and shinier than Rosita, and Herbie rode her hard every day (oh shhh, I couldn’t resist).  But Rosita stayed put.  Somehow, Herbie never had a chance to get everything just-so to put her up for sale.  Also, Cruzetta proved to be rather tempermental.  She always needed this thingamajig adjusted, or that whatzit tightened, and sometimes she leaked mysterious fluids which then just as mysteriously disappeared – she was always desperate for attention.  So whenever Cruzetta was in the shop (which seemed often), Rosita was there, loyal as ever, to carry Herbie to and fro.  And then one day, after Cruzetta’s battery died (seriously, Cruzetta?  You are so transparent), Herbie wondered out loud if he was doing the right thing by getting rid of Rosita.

“But Cruzetta is your dream bike,” I said.

“I know…but I love Rosita, too.”

I didn’t say anything.  I hadn’t liked Cruzetta since the day she arrived and had never gone for a ride – I didn’t trust her.  But this was Herbie’s decision.

Finally, Herbie posted an ad online to sell Rosita.  Unfortunately (or perhaps on purpose?), he chose the exact moment when the economy completely bottomed out to do so.  Nobody nipped at Rosita’s ad, and so she sat, unridden in our car port, while Cruzetta beamed next to her.

Until the day when Cruzetta pushed Herbie too far.  On  the way to work a couple weeks ago, Cruzetta felt tired and decided it would be a good idea to just take a little snooze on the side of the road.  Cruzetta is really rather lazy.  At least that was my interpretation.  According to the BMW dealer, Cruzetta needed a new clutch and driveshaft.  The cost to fix her up?  A LOT.  I can’t even write the number, it makes me shudder.

Herbie was distraught.  Cruzetta had already taken him for a lot of money.  Finally he realized that he couldn’t let Cruzetta abuse him anymore.  Not when he already had loyal Rosita back at home.

That night, he shuffled in the door sadly, barely able to muster the energy to hug Moo.  After Moo went to bed, I realized we needed milk, and Herbie offered to go to the store.  I expected him to take the car for such a quick errand, so I was surprised to see him grab his helmet.

“You’re taking Rosita?”

“Yeah…” he mumbled, looking down.  “I think I need to.”

I smiled sadly.  Herbie and Rosita had some things to work out.

He got home an hour later (yes, he remembered the milk).

“Did you guys make up?” I asked.

He nodded.  “She forgives me,” he said.  Thank goodness!

Sure, Herbie still feels the pain of losing Cruzetta, his dream bike.  It made it even harder when he found out why Cruzetta was acting up.  Turns out her first owner (not Kyle) mistreated her, then quickly tried to cover his tracks before selling her to Kyle.  But the damage was already done, and Herbie was scammed.  Cruzetta was damaged goods.  Poor thing.

But… confidential to Rosita:  I don’t care if it wasn’t actually Cruzetta’s fault.  I always liked you better.   Cruzetta was a stupid nasty whore.

 I mean, after all, we “older models” have to stick together, right? 

 

**Full Disclosure:  Herbie asked me to write a blog post about his unfortunate motorcycle misadventure so that people would leave sympathetic comments.  This probably wasn’t exactly what he was expecting, but he’s in mourning, people – help a Herbie out?

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6 Responses to “That Dirty Slut”

  1. Wordslinger for Hire Says:

    I must ask… Why did Herbie need a tow last night?

    And Rose… if it helps you think about it with a little less ire… Kyle and I both contributed money to buy Herbie his first bike.

    And Herbie… I’m sorry. I know how excited you were and I’m sorry things did not work out a little more ideally. I wish I was a BMW certified motorcycle mechanic so I could help out more. (Actually I feel I should mention that Raymond Pinger is, in fact, a BMW mechanic- although I have no clue if he works on bikes)

    I hope things work out.

  2. Leslie Says:

    My husband, Pat, doesn’t say much – but when he does, they are words to live by – and a regular bit of wit from his sacred mouth

    “If the grass is always greener on the other side, take better care of your lawn.”

    This isn’t exactly the sympathy Herbie wants, but he wasn’t meant to have Cruzetta. At least not yet and not through a scam artist via Kyle. Cruzetta will come, but Rosita isn’t done working her magic yet.

    And if you ever want to commiserate about hemmoraging money on things like cars or high maintenance dogs – let me know 🙂

    Let’s figure out one night / mo when I can get Pat home and my ass to a ballet class – after the next show.

    Where will this show perform?

    • mamarose Says:

      I would love to meet for a ballet class! But yes, probably not possible until this show is over in April. This one will be in Carefree (eep!), at the Cactus Shadows Fine Arts Center.

  3. kristi Says:

    Now THAT’S a catchy title.

    Herbie: You’re better off without her. Long live Rosita!

  4. New Guy Says:

    Fun post. I just keep rereading title, it is very catchy!

  5. pam broudy Says:

    this is quite possibly one of the funniest posts i have read – anywhere!

    you have a way of telling stories!


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