Between hula hooping and my natural klutzy sensibility I’ve been getting a lot of black and blue marks all over my body. It’s not pretty and it’s definitely not how I like to present myself. While I’ve been rubbing copious amounts of arnica gel to break up the bruises, it tends to look worse before it gets better. So right now, I look like a roller derby chick.

This past weekend, I ended up at a house party in the Mission district. Rather than trying to cover up all the bruising, I rolled with the punches and channeled the motorcycle gods in my favorite ripped jeans and black leather. While desperately searching for a bathroom I heard someone yell in my direction, “Do you ride?” I shook my head sideways and kept a forward momentum because I really just needed to pee.

Once I was back outside I heard the same voice to my left during a pause in conversation, “So…you like motorcycles?” I finally turned to see the face of the boy that came with the voice. He looked every bit the all-American, cruiser cowboy, classic rock, with a great smile. I launched into a story of how my co-worker and I were planning to take lessons once we got our schedule and finances in order. He grinned at the idea and said, “I’ll take you around after you learn and I’ll show you the good roads around here.”

Nice. That was a near perfect opening. How come he didn’t ask for my number? I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have opened the conversation if I didn’t dress the way I did that day. Now, what facet of my personality should I conjure up tomorrow?