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.