Motorcycle Woman with the Stabbed Earlobe

in #life5 years ago

One of those fat spiral earrings was stabbed through her earlobe. It was the type that sits in a very stretched out hole—stretched out intentionally. I fingered my nearly virgin earlobe. It felt soft and the tiny hole that was almost never used was nearly undetectable. Motorcycle Woman and I were two different creatures.

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I was sitting at a stoplight. Next to me Motorcycle Woman was sitting behind her man, her knees vaguely in contact with his back half. Motorcycle Woman is actually quite unattractive, but you don’t really notice unless you stop to think about it because she does herself up nicely. One doesn’t notice the double chin, the strange curve of her nose, or the eccentric shape to her abdomen. One does notice the hot pink lipstick, the platinum blond hair, and the bright blue talons attached to her fingertips. She wasn’t a bad looking woman at all.

For an instant I thought what would it really be like to be her? My eyes moved to the man. A scraggly beard dawned his chin and his chin alone, something like a protrusion for an upside down unicorn. He had a very stocky frame. Looks like he’d be generating a lot of heat come wintertime, I mused. He had a tense face, full of angst. I sensed a bad temper when drinking.

A vision of him at a bar came to me then. He would be pounding a fist against a table, stirring some trouble up, and there would be Motorcycle Woman tapping those bright blue talons. I could kind of see her swinging a beer bottle around in the air, should the need arise.

The light turned green. No thank you, I mumbled as we drove off in different directions. I don’t think I want to be motorcycle woman.

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We parked downtown. I took a good look at my favorite pair of sandals. They had survived one summer already. Would they make it through another long walk, or would I be hobbling back to the van in one shoe and wearing the “I blew out my flip-flop” look of shame? All the locals would give me the nod that said: Don’t step on a pop top. As I was considering this, the tot hopped out and stepped right on the back of my flip-flop as I stepped forward, giving the poor straps a proper stress test.

Each one of these toddler stress tests takes a month of life off these things, I thought as I squinted at the tot. “Sorry mama,” she said with such charm. I squinted onward as we walked toward the park. Motorcycle Woman wears boots—she doesn’t have these sort of problems.

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We meandered toward the park and I felt the deep wave of post-lunch-direct-sunlight-exhaustion come over me. It was a precursor of what one feels stepping outside after noon from May to November. I dragged my body in and out and around and through. The playground was like a maze. What would Motorcycle Woman do in these circumstances? My sluggish brain had a surprisingly quick response. Sit.

I found the tire swing, swaying in the breeze like a friendly wave. The chains would suit Motorcycle Woman’s style—it’s like her throne. I flung off the flip-flops. The old dears needed a proper rest. I could vaguely see the tot’s head popping up now and then, and that was good enough. The boy was supposed to be keeping an eye on her, but that is a questionable scenario, as every little sister can attest.

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I leaned back and let the swing glide me along. I was cutting through the breeze, the wind rushing through my hair like the platinum blond strands of Motorcycle Woman. The swing was my motorcycle, the patch of air in front of me the imaginary upside down unicorn man. That thought seemed to slow the swing’s momentum. I ran a finger across my practically virgin earlobe and shivered. My feet hit the ground and I hopped off.

No thank you. I’m definitely not Motorcycle Woman.

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Ha! Motorcycle woman lol..too bad she doesn't know she's a little bit famous here! Such great writing. "the eccentric shape to her abdomen" lol...poor motorcycle woman, good thing she doesn't read this blog.

Good thing is right, she'd probably eat me alive. Or, she might actually have her tender feelings deeply injured. Who knows. Either way I liked her. She was a character.

her tender feelings..lol..what do you mean you liked her, you have no clue what she was like, she could be a witch! lol. You think you got an accuate read on her in that 30 seconds or whatever it was? I'm not doubting you, just asking.

Haha, no I don't think I got an accurate read on her. I just meant that I like her as a character no matter how she actually is - whether wild and crazy like she looked, or a humorous opposite. Either way, she was interesting.

well I think if you guys got to know each other you'd probably become best friends! lol.

We just might. I've got a lot of diverse friends...

oh, both of them are pretty diverse?

Lol. Janton, I think you are a character tonight ;)

Oh, man! Neither am I! Actually, when my husband of 17 years became motorcycle man and wanted me to become motorcycle woman it led to a divorce. I am definitely not motorcycle woman. But he found someone with blond hair who was. I am very happy and proud to not be motorcycle woman.

That's an interesting story - divorce over motorcycle. I can't imagine my husband becoming Motorcycle Man, and the thought of it is actually pretty amusing. I will keep my fingers crossed in another few years it doesn't happen ;)

I'm proud to not be Motorcycle Woman too. Just think of how attractive our earlobes will look in old age...

The motorcycleman divorce happened 25 years ago and I'm happy to say my earlobes look pretty respectable in old age!

Are you not still riding one @Melinda010100 or hasn’t my last man standing prize gone to waste ? 😜😜

It's parked @blanchy! You have no idea what winter in Wisconsin has been like this year!

Oh good, glad to hear :)

Enjoyed reading this. Funny how we imagine the lives of other people and I like how you tried motorcycle woman on while swinging. Lump of coal guy might put off a lot of heat, but also maybe sweat :P

Haha! Very true, and I think the thought of the sweat was one factor in getting off that swing.

In Ireland motorcycle woman would need a pair of thermal underwear , a duffel coat under the leather and she would have a weatherbeaten face. 😂😂😂

There must be an Irish equivalent of my version of Motorcycle Woman, maybe minus the motorcycle. If I ever come I will be keeping my eyes peeled for her :)

"protrusion for an upside down unicorn".... pffffffffffffffffhaaaaaaaaahahahaha I laughed so hard with that!

Have you seen one of those beards? Do you know what I'm talking about? Total scruffy unicorn horn.

Yes! that's why I laughed :D

Funny...... amazing where your imagination can take you.

Maybe we should all have a Pretend Day...... where for the whole day we pretend we are another type of person. Just don't make your day a Bank Robber Day...... or anything like that.....LOL.... we wouldn't want it running over into the rest of our lives.

I love that idea! I just might do a post like that, and then evilly nominate other people to do it too ;)

Hi ginnyannette,

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It was mind blowing reading your blog. You are hard to resist with your writings. I loved every piece in there. Your choice of pictures were fantastic. I really enjoyed myself

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Thanks for stopping by.

You are welcome dearest

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Hilarious!
Nice way to capture a little girl's voice. Sophisticated and naive at the same time. Quite empowering.
Your power of observation, writing skills and imagination are quite a treat.
Congratulations

Thanks for stopping by.

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