Harley Hecklin'

So there's this dude that used to park his Sportster next to me every day at work.

Generally speaking, when I see another biker in the parking ramp, I say "good morning!" or "have a good one!" depending on if I'm arriving or leaving.

Sportster dude hasn't replied once. I guess he's too cool for me.

Except he's on an 883 and, as everyone knows, that's a girl's bike. [At least, that's what I think if you're on an 883 and you're a douche. If not, you can ride a bright pink 883 with barbie dolls for spokes and still be the manliest man on the block.]

I haven't seen him for a while, but I have daydreamed a bit about harassing him a little the next time I do see him. For example, "So! Riding the wife's bike in today, huh?" Or "So are those things highway legal?" Or "Planning to join the Shriners?"

It'd be fun, except he knows which bike is mine. Besides, I think he started parking with the "Hell's Clerical Staff" gang in another part of the garage where all the cool guys with obnoxious pipes and stupid/no helmets park. I think the Speed Four made his girly little bike cry.