Last month, I was transferred from a Panera with this:
So, to avoid paying $1 an hour parking charges, and the wrath of the union of angry parking lot attendants (UAPLA), I've been looking into alternatives. My first thought was, of course, a motorcyle. Let's be honest, if you knew me, this would make perfect sense. Nothing would be a better match for my overwhelming studliness and masculinity. A cloud of testosterone follows me wherever I go. I was thinking something slightly more cost effective than a Harley, but still a good match for my awesomeness, like this:
But in reality, I can neither afford the bike, nor the subsequent insurance, registration, or hospital bills after I fall off at my first right turn. Instead I have fallen in love with the idea of a scooter. In Colorado, they only need a $5 registration for three years, max out at 35-40 mph, can be parked on sidewalks, and they can get 100 mpg. Guess which one of those features is my favorite? Here, I'll bold it for you; they can get 100 mpg.
What all of this has taught me about myself is that while my masculinity might be threatened by the effiminate nature of the scooter, my inherent cheapness is now the stronger force in my life. I am now officially in my 30's. Cool doesn't matter anymore. White shorts paired with black socks and sandals are just around the corner. And I don't really care.
to a Panera with this:
So, to avoid paying $1 an hour parking charges, and the wrath of the union of angry parking lot attendants (UAPLA), I've been looking into alternatives. My first thought was, of course, a motorcyle. Let's be honest, if you knew me, this would make perfect sense. Nothing would be a better match for my overwhelming studliness and masculinity. A cloud of testosterone follows me wherever I go. I was thinking something slightly more cost effective than a Harley, but still a good match for my awesomeness, like this:But in reality, I can neither afford the bike, nor the subsequent insurance, registration, or hospital bills after I fall off at my first right turn. Instead I have fallen in love with the idea of a scooter. In Colorado, they only need a $5 registration for three years, max out at 35-40 mph, can be parked on sidewalks, and they can get 100 mpg. Guess which one of those features is my favorite? Here, I'll bold it for you; they can get 100 mpg. My one problem? They look like something your gay uncle Seth would drive in the annual parade:
What all of this has taught me about myself is that while my masculinity might be threatened by the effiminate nature of the scooter, my inherent cheapness is now the stronger force in my life. I am now officially in my 30's. Cool doesn't matter anymore. White shorts paired with black socks and sandals are just around the corner. And I don't really care.
If you need me, I'll be clipping coupons from the paper.
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