Now it's my turn.
I had somebody come by to replace a cracked windshield for my car.
He asked me about my bike that he saw in the garage.
(me) "it's a Yamaha FZ6."
(him) <blank expression>
(me) "um....it has an R6 engine, good ergonomics, and is a good do-it-all bike."
(him) <blank expression>
(me) "it's more of a sport tourer"
(him) "what's that?."
(me) "um...it's like between a pure sport bike and a touring bike:
(him) "get an R6 dude"
Seriously, this is the first thing this guy said!
So I kinda backed off and said I wasn't ready for an R6 yet. For some reason, at that moment, I felt self-conscious about not having a bad-ass bike like an R6. That's the reason why I posted this a while back:
http://www.600riders.com/forum/fz6-...-consider-fz6-crotch-rocket-2.html#post286628
Then he told me he rides a
gixxer 1000. He goes out with his buddies up and down 95 (a major east coast highway.) Lame. I told him I liked going out on the roads on the mountains and ride along some twisties. He was like "that's stupid,
mang" I guess he thought it was too dangerous. (It doesn't have to be.)
He then asked me how much I paid for my bike. He said I could've got an R1 for that much money on craigslist.
I'm sorry but I don't want an R1 ! He was right about the R1 price, but it would have been from like 1995 or something, lol!
Then I told him it was my first season and that I got my license by taking an MSF course. He told me he never got his motorcycle license.
(me) "why not?!"
(him) "no need. I've been riding dirt bikes since I was a kid."
(me) "it's pretty easy to get a license. the msf course lets you take the test on the last day."
(him) "I didn't even have my drivers license until I got this job. The only reason I got it was so I could drive this van around."
<referring to his Safelite Autoglass van>
On top of that, he told me he has a custom made leather jacket with some designs on it.
(me) "what do you have on it?"
(him) "I have a picture of a big clown on the back"
(me) "wow, where did you get it?."
(him) "Columbia."
(me) "Oh. Columbia, Maryland? I work there."
(him) "No
mang, Columbia."
(me) "Oh the country, sorry."
I didn't even want to think about whether his custom leather jacket was crash worthy, had armor, good stitching, etc. I don't think he even cared about that.
So he left my driveway. He did a good job with replacing my windshield. I did enjoy talking to him.
He was a really nice person. But it felt like I was talking to someone from Mars.