So, with my good mate (well, GM#11, or so), Jeorg (The Cyborg), we rocked up to the Sydney Motorcycle Show on the weekend.
There were a ton of motorbikes there, which accorded well with our expectations. There were also several examples of other types of machines, such as Suzukis, Kawasaki’s, and even Harleys!
I caught public transport to the venue, which was fine. I don’t mind riding the trains, but you’ve got to watch it with the tunnels and all those overhead lines. Yet, another instance where a helmet might have saved me.
In amongst the bikes, there were several young ladies dressed for hoonin’ in rather warm weather. Judging by how long they hung around, they were obviously enthusiastic about two-wheelers, particularly Agustas, the poor misguided souls.
I said to one of them, “I haven’t seen you or any of your mates out on the track, do you ride the Wollemi National Park at all?” My question did not illicit a response that I care to relay; let’s just say that neither she nor her buddies will be riding with my mob any time soon.
To break the awkward silence, I pointed out that with the helmet on, it’s difficult to tell my age, and that I always wash before a ride. Really though, on a motorbike, no-one’s likely to see the dirt, or for the matter, detect body odours unless they’re a bloodhound. Just so she didn’t think I was referring to her, I said I didn’t think she looked like a blood hound; at least not a happy one, judging by her dry nose.
And yes(!), I have tried using deodorants, but I find they invariably leave me with a dry mouth. I’m going to give soap another go, though, but it is the worst cake I’ve ever tasted. It’s even worse than my aunt’s eye-of-newt broth which she’d brew while cackling madly to herself. I tried it once and immediately developed an uncontrollable urge to dig for ants.
I have to say, my aunt wasn’t such an attractive type. Whenever I saw her, I’d think to myself, “Oh God, I do hope warts don’t run in the family!”
But, I digress,…
Anyway, before I parted ways with my new BFF, I managed to ask a technical question about the effectiveness of silicon body armour. Another instance of when a helmet might have saved me.
There were, of course, the usual number of show-offs at the show, all of a particularly irritating young age. So, I didn’t bother watching any demos, but I heard they were very, very show-offy.
But, getting back to the bikes; there were, of course, bikes of all brands, types, and sizes; all looking shiny-bright brand new. Personally, I think they’d look better with the Sir Alex touch. You know, a few dint’s and scratches. I asked if they’d like me to add some character to the otherwise skin-deep beauty of their wares, but, my offer was politely declined.
Security was a tad less diplomatic. Another instance where a helmet might have saved me.
Anyhow, I’ll finish up there. It IS the least I can do.