Tuesday, April 28, 2009


I'm a dweller. When I want something, I dwell on it and wish aloud. Sometimes, I just complain. Vespas have always been the object of this obsession, and the warm weather made me dig around my iPhoto library (a whole 5 seconds) for a reminder of one glorious summer day long past.

I call it: The Day I Rode a Vespa.

There's several scooter rental places in Chicago, but Windy City Vespa is the only one I could find that rents Vespas. Two summers ago* I made my way downtown for THE BEST DAY OF MY ENTIRE LIFE. (jk, it wasn't really.) I ended up riding around the entire north side of the city, checking out every little neighborhood with a huge, shit-eating grin. After that got boring, I made the rash and fatuous decision to try out Lake Shore Drive and hit the Big Time around Michigan Avenue. Looking back, I bet it was hysterical to see me puttering along at 25 mph while other drivers swerved around me and cursed. It, however, was such a beautiful day and a great experience that I can't remember feeling anything more than glee at finally getting a shiny, perfect Vespa all to myself.

The gas ended up costing like $5 for 6 hours of driving around, and I got pretty awesome at turning into corners by the end of the day. I also managed not to get hit by a car and die bleeding on the sidewalk, so that was a plus.

I did another useless search for Vespa rentals in Boston as I do every year-- nothing. Apparently, Herb Chambers Vespa Dealership won't even let serious buyers do a test drive. And I am not, um, a serious buyer.


My ultimate dream is to get an old red one-- nothing too fancy, since I don't have the motorcycle license you need for the fast ones. And I apologize to my friends for the years of my complaining and wishing for a scooter they've endured.

*Speaking of, how fricking long ago is that?? My poor pink Vans are still around but are a weird peach color and have unsightly holes all over. I am so old.

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