"You mean Harley doesn't refer to Harley-Davidson?" I ask, raising a brow as I look over my shoulder. Some of the stereotypes from my years living on Earth linger with me even now, exaggerating the rugged country nature of Americans until they were mostly a caricature in our media. I knew better, somewhat, from having been well traveled. But there was some part of my mind that still viewed the Americans of old as rugged, the type to take to either motorbike or horse.
The old Western aesthetic.
But the spill of street lights over the sidewalk and sound of cars rushing in the distance is enough to pull me back to the moment, drawing my thumb down the center of his palm as I lead him along. I wonder for a moment how it might look to an outside party. Like a woman on the prowl, I guess.
"You'll have to hold on tight. I drive fast," I tell Harley, unlocking my helmet from where I've chained it to the handlebars and tossing it his way. In the small side compartment, I've got a thick leather helmet that I can use in the meantime, and I tuck its straps carefully under my chin as I throw my leg over my bike. "C'mon."
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Date: 2015-01-25 09:30 pm (UTC)The old Western aesthetic.
But the spill of street lights over the sidewalk and sound of cars rushing in the distance is enough to pull me back to the moment, drawing my thumb down the center of his palm as I lead him along. I wonder for a moment how it might look to an outside party. Like a woman on the prowl, I guess.
"You'll have to hold on tight. I drive fast," I tell Harley, unlocking my helmet from where I've chained it to the handlebars and tossing it his way. In the small side compartment, I've got a thick leather helmet that I can use in the meantime, and I tuck its straps carefully under my chin as I throw my leg over my bike. "C'mon."