Thursday, March 01, 2007


Its color was candy apple red.
The helmet was the same color.
I had to have it.
It was like a beautiful woman.
It was my Juliet and I was her (its) Romeo.
When "she" left I felt empty.
I couldn't get it (her) out of my mind.
She (it) was something called an X-6 Suzuki Hustler.
Within days I figured out that I had enough cash saved to obtain Juliet.
But I had to have a signature from a parent.
My mother was absolutely against it.
But my persistent begging finally got me her approval.
A roommate gave me a ride to the store.
I held the stash of cash in my right hand and waved it outside the car window.
I finally would have Juliet.
I bought her.
I rode her.
I rode her in rain, sunshine and snow.
I commuted from Denver to Boulder to attend classes at C.U.
One time, when temperatures were below zero, I was riding Juliet on the interstate, going around 65 mph, when a little old lady pulled out in front of me.
She paused and then stopped.
Then she moved a little and stopped again.
I said to myself (and to the little old lady) "Please go, stop or go back".
But she didn't.
I gripped Juliet's arms and pulled her to the left.
I missed the little old lady, but now I couldn't slow down because my hands (which did have gloves on) were "frozen" to Juliet's arms.
My hands had become paralyzed from grasping so tightly when I turned Juliet.
But we made it.
Juliet and I didn't hit the little old lady.

One other time I was out for a joy ride on Juliet.
We were in Boulder's Sunshine Canyon.
We were coming around a bend on the mountain road.
A Mustang was behind us.
I wanted to "show" the Mustang just what Juliet could "do".
I accelerated to stay in front of the car behind us.
Juliet and I slid on the loose gravel and hit the side of the road.
(I would find out later that a motorcyclist had died a few weeks earlier at this very spot when he went over the side of the mountain.)
I still have the scar on my back from this accident.
After this, I was banished from Juliet.
We parted ways.
But we both lived.


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