Eurotrash — The group

This is not me by the way. And yes, I know it's not a scooter.

When I first drove into Pottstown it struck me as a microcosm of a city.

Rather tall buildings for a little town.

There was also a European flavor about it. Everything was walkable, there were parks everywhere, one with a flowing fountain downtown. The garden club keeps up the flowers hanging from lampposts and giant flowerpots in the business areas. There are also wooden park benches everywhere.

The buildings are mostly brick and dating from the 1800s. A lot of them could use fixing up and some have crappy vinyl and aluminum siding hiding them that dates to the 60s and 70s. But it has potential.

It now has an awesome coffee shop, Churchill's, that opened a year after I moved here. It's technically a chocolatier's, which is very European. How many towns can boast a chocolatier?

And it finally has a wine shop downtown, though it could use some asthetic improvements.

Which brings me round to the Eurotrash concept.

My boyfriend loves everything Euro: cafe racers, cool mini cars and coffee shops. So when the scooter became a reality he wanted to start a scooter club for all those folks who love everything Euro but were American. He wanted to call it the Eurotrash scooter club.

I guess the idea of it being "trash" is because we're American and really don't have the "Euro" thing down, but love the style. But we dumb down a cool pair of graphic but sexy shorts with flat sandals, which really doesn't look good, but hey, we're American and we love comfort.

Plus you really can't comfortably stop a scooter in high heels. Though I'm sure Italian women have figured it out.

What have I got myself into

  This is not what girls my age do. 

   It all started with a simple statement from my boyfriend after he moved in.

  "We should go get my cousin's scooter for you."

  One of those statements I disregard because it came out of the blue. It was a whim, surely. Wasn't it. 

  He asked a couple of more times, obviously intent on getting it fo

r me whether I responded or not. 

  I was very hesitant to want it. First, where were we going to put it?

  We live in a tiny apartment over a garage, and while I'm allowed half of it, my mini cooper and his sport bike just about fit — along with all his junk from his old apartment. 

  Second, the only time I've ever ridden a scooter, I

 almost s

mashed head-on into an SUV as I attempted to turn a corner in Key West. 

  Nightmare.

 

  Let's face it, 

motorized versions of the bicy

cle aren't good for everyone. Most people can't figure out how to handle a clutch in a car. (I have and I like it.)

  But most scooters don't have clutches, so I can't let it out too fast and crash, right?

  But I still wasn't sure.

  I didn't want to get hit by an SUV and die just tooling down the street. But I guess that could also happen while I'm walking ...

  Then one weekend my boyfriend announces that he's borrowing his coworker's truck and running down to get it.

  I'd already had plans and this was out of the blue, and when I came home that night, it was in the garage, in pieces. 

  I still have no visual concept of what this Geely will look like once he gets the pieces together, but the body has been sanded and sent out to be painted. And my boyfriend has dedicated a lot of time to fixing it mechanically, so I can't really say no at this point. 

  But what there is of it here looks so small. Almost like it belongs to a child. Which makes me a little nervous. 

  Check back. Hopefully I'll have  a video of my successful ride down the back alley.