On your left! Please move out of my way, I’m the adult man riding the Razor scooter, and I really need to get to my next sex appointment ASAP!
When I first purchased my scooter from my adolescent nephew, I was expecting it to just be a cool, foldable way to scoot around the city’s bike lanes and get to work (I am a full grown adult, as you need not be reminded). But after using it for several months, it’s gotten me a ton of ass and sex, which is 100% understandable and true. So now I use it to quickly get to each and every sex date I have in half the time it would take if I was still speed-walking!
Seeing people’s reactions when I’m on my way to bang-sessions is a true rush for me. When pedestrians see me carving major asphalt on my scooter in my poorly-tailored suit and messenger bag, I imagine it’s like they’re watching a valiant, sexy knight bestride his chrome and lime-green destrier through the forest of curiosity, past the dragon of desire and directly into their treasures of sequestered lust. (Also, I wear a helmet—just like a knight does!)
I love how on-time I am these days, but I have to admit that huge amounts of sex and getting tons of respect from my peers are not my main focuses or passions in life, and most certainly are not the main utility of my sweet and cool scooter. Once my humping plans are expired and I’m done making someone fall in love with me, I use this scooter to get to-and-from the subway station, where I practice my grinds. Yes, that’s right—when I’m not having sex (which involves some grinding, if you know what I mean!), I like to gain momentum by scootering down a subway platform, bunny-hopping onto the third rail, and electro-grinding my way to the next subway stop where I do it all over again. If there’s a good-looking person on the platform—and sparks fly between us (metaphor) and also under my scooter (from grinding)—I might wink and shout my number at him/her. But nothing tops my true joy of grinding on the third rail, narrowly escaping death, and being cool. That’s just the scooter life!
If you’re wondering why I seem embarrassed and depressed whenever I pass you on my scooter in the streets, it is a ploy that us scooter-ers use to make sure that our lifestyle remains somewhat obscure and retains all of its “dopeness”, a term I learned recently and have been overusing. If everyone knew the way of life that my peers and I enjoy, it would lose all of its charm! Luckily for us, most people stop riding scooters after they get their first pube, which makes it a much more niche (and therefore way sexier) mode of transportation between booty calls. Now please, PLEASE move out of my way—don’t you know who I am? I’m the scooter guy! I’m on my way to fuck someone! (And also this thin metal brakepad gets really hot and melts the bottom of my Sketcher sometimes so having to stop for people is a lot of stress for me.) Out of my way, a sex appointment awaits me! (This scooter has nothing to do with attention seeking or my yearning for youth, and the rush I’m in is in no way related to my IBS!)
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Connor writes comedy for himself and others in New York City. He’s trying very hard. His writing has appeared in AboveAverage, Reductress, McSweeneys, and CollegeHumor.