Here the story goes. My bitter epiphany, my sweet love. Small bits and pieces that bring me together to the realization of the "idea of it"
Hey kids, do you really know what you desire for? Do you know what it truly mean by loving someone - someone abnormal, someone wickedly cool, someone politically incorrect? If you don't. stick with who u are, and trust me, you are fine, very fine with that
1. Story 1: Love me love my Vespa- not the idea of me having a Vespa.
"I love Vespa, Wow, you are so cool" - these are the lines I have heard since 15. No cliche. When all the "chick" magazine, teenage newspapers started writing cheesy immature love stories about Vespisti (people who ride Vespa), back then in 2000 there was a Vespa wave among the youth. I read all those craps written by people who never bothered to land their precious arrogant butts on a Vespa, not to mention live with it, love it (even in sickness or in pain). My generation grew up with the thought that Vespisti were cool bunch of wicked freak. Maybe we are, maybe we aren't.
I see where they came from. It's one gorgeous chick, even a head-turner. Guys.girls, the elderly looked at us - even when they are on an SH bike, approximately 10 times to 20 times worth my Vespa. But hey, we are talking about value not price here. So as far as I am concerned, people think they love Vespa.
But guess WHAT? They don't. They love the idea of Vespa.
You love it when it behaves, when nothing goes wrong, when guys whistle behind your back and people pointing at you with admiration - of u or your Vespa I am not too sure. But here is the thing, working well, not going wrong, looking fabulous... is only one part of having a Vespa. One tiny part to be exact. I had my 1st when I was 15, dying in the middle of a traffic jam, bursting smokes and making funny noises took a good 70% part of the whole package. Having pushed May - name of my 1st Vespa home - 5km plus plus at 3pm in June was not funny. Having Vespa means: no more heels, no dress i.e. flats and jeans - full time alert to avoid traffic jams.
My story could be long. Yet in short, recently I was hit on - now that I know, my Vespa was hit on, not me. He - the arrogant and pretentious male complimented on my turquoise Iviee - my second Vespa: "I would love to have one" I was really flattered. Iviee who never broke down before, who had been nothing BUT a wonderfully well-mannered girl decided to open up my eyes. She burst and stopped in the middle of the road. How humiliated he was - on the contrary I was indeed calm. May taught me well. When I was dealing with the situation, he gave some "encouraging" comment: "Next time you want to go out, let me know, i will come and pick you up, there is no need to show off"
There he goes, and there - they will continue, as far as I am concerned, people look at Vespisti as cool chicks and dudes when nothing goes wrong but the very moment when their Vespa stop working properly, they will smirk and call us name. First they pity themselves now they pity us. I could not help but laugh to tell him off. I don't need a free ride. In my most pathetic state, not having enough money to pay for a bus ride, with my two very healthy feet, I will walk my way to my destination. Bikes broke down, everyone of them would one day tells you that they are tired. I wonder why people hold this prejudice against Vespa.
So I told him off and went to fix it. The trick was simple and it did not cost me more than 3 bucks before I was on my way alone again.
The trade is simple. Once you love it, it's an addiction, little bit of happiness only you know. If it was fashion, well, it does not worth it. cuz there is no fashion made your leg bruise and your arm aches for weeks.Yet when it's love, whatever people say, it's your crazy love.
the idea of it, trust me, it does not worth it, all that trouble and physical pain. If you call it trouble taking care of your sick lover, then why hanging on?
