Stupid questions people ask you when stopped

Had a post-worthy comment from my boss the other day.
Note: I don't like my boss and I am quite certain he knows it.

He comes to the door of my office trying to make small talk and asks, "So, did you ride your motorcycle today?"


photo (2) by r6dink, on Flickr

So. Did you?

I think the "is it fast" question is not necessarily a non-rider thing, it's just a moron thing.

I think I told the story about the former coworker who saw my airhead and first thing he said was, "I guess that's cool." :huh I wasn't trying to impress him or anyone for that matter. He later asked, "Is it fast?" "Uh, yup." I didn't bother explaining that it's nearly 40 years old with 120k miles on it.

A couple months ago, I saw him as I was driving my clapped out 1985 318i with different colored body panels and dry-rotted tires, that smokes like a 2-stroke. First thing he asks, "Is it fast?" "Uh, yup."

My first encounter with the concept was the television show "Chips", where Ponch laid down his police bike. Even my 10 year old mind could not make sense of it. Not that I had a better solution, but I knew it wouldn't work on my bicycle.

No, he brings it in the truck each day, and unloads it in the parking lot so he can keep an eye on it while working...here's your sign.

I had one of these, a '93. The fastest I ever got it, according to my GPS, was 106mph and it just would not go any faster.

Might prove useful should you find yourself being chased by someone on a KLR or something...

Today's gem, as I'm unzipping my leather oversuit.

"Are you Batman?"

I'm sitting on the bike down at the community college, fishing my gloves up from the depths of my courier's bag. These two kids do their worst gangsta-limp over to where I'm parked. They're both white, maybe 18, with clothes that are five sizes too big and still graced with tags. His buddy only has the top button of his flannel done up, and Dockers fit for a 400 lbs-er barely clinging to his legs. The first kid's hat was on sideways with some giant, gold sticker still on the (flat as a board) bill. Kid #1 asks...

"Izzat like uhh Vulcan 1800?"
"Nope, she's a V-Star 650 "
"Damn yo, a 6-fiddy? So does this, like, wheelie an shit?"
Me: :huh
His buddy leaned over to eyeball the speedo and said, "Shit, yo. This only do, like, 120. Issa girls bike."

They both clambered into mom's van a moment later when she pulled up and honked. Complete with Elton John's Rocket Man playing so loud, you could hear it clearly over the Diesel Tech guys doing a run-up. Wonder which degree those kids are going for?

**

A guy about thirty comes up just as I drop my visor and get ready to split from campus. He looked like an accountant, and yelled over the bike, through my helmet and earplugs.

"Damn nice Harley, man! What model is it?"
I flipped the lid up and yell, "It's a 650 V-Star."
"..."
"Ya know, a Yamaha?"
" don't lie to me, man! That's a fuckin' Harley, asshole! You're so stoopid you don't even kn...!"

I slammed the lid shut and took off. Yep, he's a college student.

**

The best was a little old lady, probably pushing 80. I'm guessing the woman driving was her daughter. They'd parked two (empty) spaces over from me at Wally World. I was gearing up on the bike as they pulled in. This older lady, thin as a rail, got out of the car's passenger seat real easy. She looked up, spotted my Star, and stopped in her tracks. After a second, she did slow shuffle up to the bike's left side and gave my 650 a long look. Then she shuffled around the other side. All the while, she's got this smile that's part magic and part wonder on her face. I sat there on the bike with the stand up, my neon bucket in my hands. After about a minute of giving my bike lover's eyes, she shuffled up beside me. She leaned over, put a feather-light hand on my shoulder and said in the voice of a Georgia Peach, all classy and soft, "Hunny, if I was a mite younger, I'd jump right on this beauty of yours and we'd start some real trouble together."

Puts a grin on my face every time I remember her!

The last one makes up for a bunch of non riding ass clowns calling a 6 fiddy a girls bike.

Is OK, they will grow up (yeah right) to become men (yeah right) who call a twelf hunnert (Sportster) a girls bike.

Well it was a v-star.

Easy mistake to make.

But then they would be correct

Fulton County PA Gas station, filled it up (station is a full-service but I did it anyway) two "attendants" standing there, skinny guy asks;

S.G. "What's that under the guard on the side"

Me "What part"?

I then start pointing at various bits. Finally.

S.G. "Yeah, that"

Me "Its the cylinder head"

S.G. "Dude, did you make it? I've never seen that before".

Somedays I fear for the nation.

BMW 1150.

Q: "What kind of bike is that?"
Me: "A Triumph"
Q: "Oh. Who makes that?"
Me: "Triumph"
Q: "So is that a Ninja?"
Me: "No, it's a Yamaha."
Q: "Oh, cool!"

Boss: You need time off to ride the TAT? What's that?
Me: Off road trip from NM to OR. I need 3 weeks.
Boss: You taking the Valkyrie?
Me: :huh No, I think the DRZ400S would be better
Boss: All that way on a dirt bike? OK, have fun...
Me: WOOHOO!

That, Sir, is simply the BEST comment I've ever heard!!!
It's just so damn classy!

You have to watch out for old ladies! When I got my Yamaha YDS3 back in 1966,my next door neighbor ,Mrs.Bosch says to me over the backyard fence. " See you got yourself a wheel"! A what, I say. She says a wheel ,you know a motorcycle.

Now let tell you she was about 70 at the time and was the kind of lady that had doilies on her furniture. She goes on to say ,I used to ride with my beau on his Indian --- and whispers, that was before I married Harry!

You have to remember ---they were young once too!

My last name, especially when looked at quickly, looks very similar to the f' word, and people who have not seen it before always ask how to pronounce it.

I had 2 little old ladies (about 70ish) in my office one day, I handed them a card, and then went about getting some additional literature for them.

As I was coming back to my office, I could see them with thier heads together talking and looking at my card.

As I came back in one of them asked me how I pronounce my last name. I replied, "I usually tell the ladies they can pronounce it however they want" with an obviously fake smooth tone to my voice.

Making little old ladies laugh like school girls is as sweet a sound as a baby laughing histerically. Totally infectious.