Spree's End

Two weeks ago I took our scooter in for a repair. The folks at the Honda place did some diagnostics and listed all the things wrong with it via one very depressing voicemail. I called them back and asked if it was worth making the costly repairs. "I wouldn't," said the voice on the other end of the phone, "I mean, not if it was me."

Later, I stopped by and haggled with them. World's worst haggling, in fact. What they agreed to, in exchange for keeping the scooter for spare parts, was to shave a cool $50 off the purchase of a new scooter or motorcycle. "I'll be back next spring," I said, and had Janelle drop off the title later on. And so - fifty dollars of store credit later - the deal was done. And that was sad. Truly.

But you know what's weird? Now, all I can do is fantasize about getting a real bike - and this is something I never thought I would do (not since I was a dirtbike-obsessed pre-teen, anyway). So, now the gleaming Honda Rebel has become my Girl With The Golden Hair. And I'm sure this all has something to do with Dennis Hopper dropping off and my own Thanatos-urge and, of course, the classic up-sale by the boys at Honda. But I'm of a mind that we sometimes need our illusions. And, as Axl Rose reminds us, that we can even make use of them.