I Want A Scooter

A couple of weeks ago, I saw the Tom Hanks film, “Larry Crowne” in which he played a middle aged man who decided to attend college for the first time. In order to save on commuting costs, he bought a scooter and ended up joining a scooter club comprised of young college students.


Somehow, that resonated with me. I wanted a scooter. Then, I began noticing scooters. At my workplace, there’s a covered parking space just for scoots. Some days, there might be a dozen of the cute little boogers out there.
See?

Aren’t they adorkable?

So, yes, I want a scooter. I really do. But I’m running into all sorts of roadblocks, over and over.

First, I thought I’d rent a scooter to see how I’d like it. However, it turns out that one must have a motorcycle license in order to rent one. I told the scooter-rental lady that I’d have absolutely no idea how to ride a motorcycle in order to pass the test. She said I could take the test on a scooter and that they’d rent one to me.

Well, first, you have to take a 20-hour course in order to take the test to get your motorcycle license. The nearest place one can take the course is at the University of Illinois in Champaign which is a hundred miles from here. Ugh! (That can’t be right.)

Then, I got to thinking, “Where would I even ride a scooter if I had one?” I live within ten blocks of everywhere I go. Work is six blocks away. Church is ten blocks. Grocery store is four blocks. Miss Healthypants is just a block away.

All those are places that I should be walking to; not with my butt sitting on a cushy motorized vehicle.

I looked for scooter clubs. Surely, I could do the Tom Hanks thing and buzz around the city with cool, fun scooter people.

I found a scooter club. Turns out, it’s a gay scooter club (naturally.) Remember the motorcycle club called the Hell’s Angel’s? Well, this one is called the “Hell’s Fairies.” I’m not joking.  That is just too cute for words.

So, why would I buy a scooter?

My friend, Miss Healthypants has called me “Dooder” for the past ten years. I’m still a little unsure of how that got started. I call her “Poodle.” We’re Poodle-n-Dooder.

So, if I got a scooter, I would be . . .

Are you ready for this?

. . . “Scooter Dooder.”

And THAT, my friends, is why I should get a scooter.