My husband is a retired Veteran and pretty much stayed at home taking care of kids and feeding me. Now who's going to cook?? I know he was getting kind of grouchy stuck at home all the time but come on a freaking MOTORCYCLE?!? Those things get people killed! As in dead. I don't have life insurance on you yet buddy!
Then I thought about all the typical stereotypes that go along with bikers and being as my past relationships were pretty much sent from Hell... well lets say I am slightly insecure. I'm not one to brag, but my husband is pretty scrumptious I'd say. He still has his Army physique and gorgeous, melt-you-into-a-puddle, come hither blue eyes. Girls just flock to him. He can't help it really. So bikers are known for their beer guzzling and sexual indiscretions... right? I've always heard and seen on TV how they party their asses off and sleep with countless biker groupies... so it must be true. Right? They just hop on their bikes and disappear for days doing God-knows-what with God-knows-who. Can I get an amen?
So here I am with my phone gripped tightly in my hand having a panic attack, picturing it all now. The drunken stupors, the stds, the skanky sluts and me either running him over on his bike or filing for divorce before we even get to our first anniversary. I listened to him rattle off specs and figures excitedly while I planned for that home-wrecking hunk of metal's accidental demise. When he finally came to pick me up in our boring van we spoke of picking up the bike the next day. It was still winter and late at night... too cold to ride he mutters. Well our girls freak out as soon as they hear, arguing who was going to ride with Daddy first. The next thing I hear is, "Daddy, can't we go get it tonight?" I do a double take as I hear him reply, "Well, I guess so, if your mother doesn't mind". Its 3 against 1 ... out numbered again. How can I say no and be the bad guy?
So we drive the 70 miles to go pick it up and once I see it, I have to say that its a pretty bike. Saddle bags, sissy bar, back rest for him, pretty nice and a steal compared to what he paid for it. So I start to follow him home and its overwhelming the excitement and pure happiness you can feel emanating off of him. He looks awesome on it I have to admit. We stop three times so he can hop in the van to fight off the hypothermia and pluck the icicles off his mustache. Yep he's still grinning.
That was about a month and 1/2 ago. Since then I've ridden on the back and actually enjoyed myself. Its like a mini vacation away from everything. Its peaceful and exhilarating at the same time. I've had to get use to him not being where I left him and I did get a little jealous of his bike, the mistress. I am also coming to terms that our lives are changing whether it be for good or bad and that there's no sense in worrying. I think he's earned the trust. I mean he handled himself and came back whole from a hostile country so I guess he can handle himself on a bike. I know I have a long way to go but I'm coming around. All that biker lore I heard so much about does happen, but its not the norm. I'm just letting myself go with it, wherever the road takes us.
So stay tuned for my initiation into the role of biker wife and the mysterious world of bikers, MC's and developing an iron ass (those passenger seats are abusive to my delicate rear end) I'll share what I learn and hopefully learn something from those that dare to follow me into what is sure to be a comedy of errors!
May the wind always blow through your hair and your bike upright,
Ash
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