a lesson too late for the learning
Well, today I thought I was smart. Oh the irony of it all. I called down to HotShots to pre-order my double espresso, so I wouldn't have to stop the engine on my scooter, and I could just run in and pay. On the way there I had to switch it over to the reserve tank, and since I wanted to toodle around the hills for a few minutes after the coffee stop, I thought I had better fill up. Gambling all, I pulled into Esso and pumped $5.60 into the tank. Paid. Then first kick, she roared to life again. Encouraged by this sign of improvement, I headed off to HotShots for my morning coffee. When I got there, lulled into a false sense of security by the easy start down at the Esso, I killed the engine, went in and had my shot, came out and gave Couchette a good kick. Then another. And another. And so on.
nada.
It is at this point the panic starts to rise in me. I pushed it home from HotShots once already, and just about had to do it from the Village Baker, and I have enough work to do at home that I can barely spare the time for a 15 minute ride, let alone 30 minutes trying to start the scoot. The curse words begin to rise in me like monkeys in a banana tree.
You'd think I would have learned. There is a Bermuda Triangle for scooters around coffee shops, and I keep sailing right into it.
After 15 minutes of pushing and kicking I am starting to resign myself to some form of humiliation, whether it be pushing the scoot home, or leaving it there and calling for Anie to pick me up, either way I feel foolish, mostly because I am so reconizable on the scooter. I can hear people saying "there goes that guy pushing his scooter again". Eff off.
And then the miracle: With one last frustrated kick, Cochette sputters to life and I work the throttle to burn out the excess gas in the combustion chamber. I purr softly to her "I won't let you die, I won't let you die, come on baby, you can do this". After a couple of minutes of warm sputtering, she levels out and we roar off into the sunrise.
I head for New Lake area, as yet unexplored. It turns out to be a 15 minute long road through rolling hills, ranches, and forest that ends up in a dead end cul-de-sac about 8km out of Cranbrook, but I need to head back anyways. Work calls. More exploring later. For now I am happy to be out with the wind on my face. How do you tell a happy scooterist? Count the bugs in my teeth.
nada.
It is at this point the panic starts to rise in me. I pushed it home from HotShots once already, and just about had to do it from the Village Baker, and I have enough work to do at home that I can barely spare the time for a 15 minute ride, let alone 30 minutes trying to start the scoot. The curse words begin to rise in me like monkeys in a banana tree.
You'd think I would have learned. There is a Bermuda Triangle for scooters around coffee shops, and I keep sailing right into it.
After 15 minutes of pushing and kicking I am starting to resign myself to some form of humiliation, whether it be pushing the scoot home, or leaving it there and calling for Anie to pick me up, either way I feel foolish, mostly because I am so reconizable on the scooter. I can hear people saying "there goes that guy pushing his scooter again". Eff off.
And then the miracle: With one last frustrated kick, Cochette sputters to life and I work the throttle to burn out the excess gas in the combustion chamber. I purr softly to her "I won't let you die, I won't let you die, come on baby, you can do this". After a couple of minutes of warm sputtering, she levels out and we roar off into the sunrise.
I head for New Lake area, as yet unexplored. It turns out to be a 15 minute long road through rolling hills, ranches, and forest that ends up in a dead end cul-de-sac about 8km out of Cranbrook, but I need to head back anyways. Work calls. More exploring later. For now I am happy to be out with the wind on my face. How do you tell a happy scooterist? Count the bugs in my teeth.
posted by creativisualist at 8:48 AM
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