There She Goes, Again

Not her, but damned close... both bike and girl.

I was out and about earlier today and I saw her again.  There's this raven-haired beauty here in P-Ville who rides a Sporty and the town is small enough that I see her two or three times a week, sometimes more.  My FIRST thought when I see her is "Damn.  I need a woman like that in my life."  She's striking, indeed, what with that jet-black mane flowing behind her and that tight-fitting tank top that accentuates all the best points... pun intended... of the female form.  She's a sight to see... confident, beautiful beyond a doubt, and she's on what appears to be an immaculately-maintained bike.  What's NOT to like?

Well, this.  My second thought when I see that girl is "she ain't all that smart."  First: no helmet.  Second: that tank top, which would be fetching in the bar, is gonna coz her immeasurable grief when and if she unloads.  (Short parenthetical digression: there are only two types o' bikers, those who HAVE been down and those who are GONNA go down.  No exceptions.)  Bottom line: not all that smart.  We're at an age where "smart" outweighs pulchritude by a large margin.  Still and even, I do think I'd like to have a couple o' beers and bench-race a while with that woman.  There's an outside chance I could change her attitude and get a helmet on that pretty head and leather on that well-put-together body.

A mission, eh?