The Attorney has decided to buy a motorcycle.
At age 53.
How many mid-life crises is one allowed?
And if you’ve already had one, does that make the first one actually a third-life crisis and the new one a two-thirds-life crisis?
I thought the luxury convertible six years ago was the mid-life crisis.
Or the young new boyfriend.
But, he sold the convertible about three years ago, and guys have since referred to me as a “Daddy” on more than one occasion.
So, maybe the bike is just a fresher component of the same old crisis.
It could be worse.
He could be coming home with shopping bags stuffed with Aeropostale and A&F, trying to shimmy into smedium t-shirts.
But, then again, maybe with a motorcycle he might shake up his super conservative wardrobe a little by dipping into a bit of leather.
Chaps on a 36-inch inseam?
Nice little mounds of denim pooching out the back?
Boots adding just enough lift to tip him over 6′-6″?1
I wonder of they make chaps that tall?
Ironically, that’s an issue he faces with the bike he wants most. It’s not built for men his height. The sales rep said that even with an extension package, it would probably be uncomfortable.
So, he’s trying to sell The Attorney on an alternative.
An alternative that The Attorney doesn’t currently see as an alternative.
He’s a man who wants what he wants.
Maybe this will put the whole idea to rest.
If only motorcycles were not so dangerous.
That’s my problem with it.
He broke is arm last spring when he took a spill running.
What’s a bike wreck going to do to his brittle old bones?
If only there was a way to have the wardrobe without the bike.
But a leather daddy stepping out of a BMW kind takes the puff out of the pastry, no?