motorcyclemeditation.com

A wine tasting event this evening, alcohol flowing. Motorcycle parked outside. The party getting louder and louder, glasses clinking, being refilled. Mine still containing the same half inch it had from the start, this being a trick learned years ago, if you say no to wine you’re a party pooper, if you say yes but don’t drink it, nobody will notice, there are a lot of more interesting things in the world, and those assigning significance to others’ speed of glugging are themselves too busy glugging to sustain attention.

Not quite everyone, though. Someone coming up to me, hey, you’re not having very much wine, can I get you some more. No, it’s okay thanks, need to get on the motorcycle afterwards. Oh okay, makes sense, shame you didn’t leave the motorcycle at home. Yes, well, might not have made it at all. Plus, unspoken, looking forward to the night ride, temperature mild, London’s streets after the rush hour full of quiet dark charm.

The commentary continuing, bit of a drawback about motorcycles huh, you keep singing their praises, cramps your style a bit when it comes to a glass of wine. Sure, that’s true, though what I’ve found, it can be quite handy to have style cramped when it comes to alcohol, bit too easy to wallop it down, take a look around, quite a few people already had too much and won’t be stopping soon. Been there before, it’s fine for a while, best to get a grip on it, motorcycle’s a good way of doing so.

Yet the people all having a fine time, wine providing a requisite release. From everyday cares, also from sense. Some standing outside on a balcony in the evening cool, seeing the motorcycle, hey, is that yours, gee, are you going to take me for a ride, sorry, don’t have a second helmet, never mind we won’t get caught, no, maybe another day. Best get out of here, won’t be long before it’s, hey, can I borrow your helmet, take the motorcycle for a spin.

Beautiful cool ride home.