The other night my husband and I were watching TV when this â€œHow to be Amazingâ€ Gamefly commercial came on. I like this commercial. Itâ€™s funny and I like the music. I also like the first â€œdonâ€™t do thisâ€ where the guy gets on the back of the scooter and bends his legs back instead of putting them on the pegs. This scene had me rolling in laughter. I was laughing because Iâ€™ve done this. I am not amazing.
I was in high school, my girlfriend had just gone for a motorcycle ride with one of our guy friends and it was my turn. I was a little nervous, I knew my parents would kill me if they found out and Iâ€™d never been on a motorcycle before but I was going anyway.
Let me set the stage: this is happening in front of a bunch of friends. Everyone is hanging out at the â€œdocksâ€ (basically a park by the river where everyone would park their cars and hang out or drive by and see who was hanging out), we were listening to music, some are playing hacky sack and Iâ€™m sure some were drinking beers. So everyone is being cool. I think Iâ€™m being cool. As I hop my coolness onto the back of the bike the thoughts in my head go something like this:
This is gonna be great.
Wow, this helmet is a little big.
Hmmmm, why does this seat make me lean forward so much?
Am I supposed to be leaning against Andyâ€™s back like this? This doesnâ€™t seem right.
Iâ€™ll just wrap my arms around his waist. This should be fine. And not look weird. My leaning and hugging probably looks normal. Iâ€™m sure Kathy did this too, I just didnâ€™t notice.
What do I do with my legs? Am I supposed to let them hang? That doesnâ€™t seem right. I donâ€™t want to burn my leg on the exhaust. I must have to pick them up. How do I do that? How am I supposed to hold my legs up? Iâ€™ll just bend them. (So picture this, my legs hanging straight down, bent at the knee so my lower leg is parallel to the ground. Just like the guy in the video â€“ but he looks way more amazing, mainly because heâ€™s not also leaning forward with a death grip on the driver.)
And off we go. I remember nothing of this ride. Not a thing. No exhilaration at breaking the rules, no wind against my skin, no thrill of the open road. Iâ€™m not even sure exactly how long it lasted, maybe 5 minutes or maybe 20. What I do know is that it couldnâ€™t have been too long because itâ€™s not easy to maintain an unsupported hamstring curl, in both legs, while on the back of a motorcycle.
Once the ride is over and weâ€™ve pulled back up to the group, Iâ€™m exhausted. No joke. My legs are shaking, my neck hurts from that heavy, heavy helmet, and my back aches from arching it the whole time so Iâ€™m not bouncing my face off Andyâ€™s back. Oh I was miserable, achy and tired and so, so thankful to be done.
When I finally peeled myself off Andy and the bike all I can hear is laughter. Loud laughter. Belly aching laughter from my good friend Kathy. Want to know what was so funny? I certainly did. She said, â€œWhy did you do that with your legs? Did you really hold them up like that the whole time?â€
Me. Getting pissed. â€œYesâ€¦whatâ€™s wrong with that?â€
Her: Why didnâ€™t you just put them on the pegs like youâ€™re supposed to?
â€œPegs? Pegs!! I didnâ€™t see any f*(%ing Pegs!! And why didnâ€™t you tell me? And why are you laughing SO HARD? Really? There are pegs?!?â€
Those last statements happened â€œon the inside.â€
What I actually said was, â€œhuh, pegs? I donâ€™t know. Itâ€™s cool.â€
Clearly it was not cool. Not even remotely.
And it definitely was not amazing.