Scooter-O-Rama

Yesterday, Matt and I opted out of going to a swing dance because we were both tired and wanted to spend some time alone. So, we decided to take our scooter into Spokane. This is the story of the adventure that ensued while on our beautiful mint green scooter.

First of all, you have to know that when we're on the scooter, we definitely draw attention to ourselves. I'm not sure if it's the fact that there are two of us on a tiny scooter, or the fact that the scooter is a retro green color...but we have people honking at us constantly.

So, as we're driving down Hwy 53 yesterday evening, waving at the people who are honking at us, our scooter starts to sputter....and we quickly realize that we have run out of gas. We decide to walk our little scooter back about a mile to the nearest gas station...holding our heads down the whole way there as the people passing very obviously laugh and point at us.

On to adventure number 2. We took Pines from 53 down to Sprague. If you've never driven all the way down Sprague, you are truly missing out. Sprague is like the Oakland of Spokane. I can't be positive, but I think I counted 3 prostitutes during our journey over....and that was at 6:00 in the evening. We followed Sprague all the way to downtown, and then parked next to Sushi.com for some dinner.

After dinner, we drove the scooter down to Manito Park and the Browne's Addition area. The houses up there are incredible!

Around 8:30, we decide to head home. And here's where the real excitement begins.

When we're on the scooter, I always sit on the back, and I usually grab the sides of Matt's shirt for stability. So as I'm sitting there with Matt's shirt clutched between my fingers, I get this great idea....I decide to try to flash the people sitting at the upcoming bus stop by pulling Matt's shirt up as we pass them. Now, I knew that if I tried to pull Matt's shirt up he would probably try to block my attempt, exposing only his hairy stomach. I wanted to make sure that I could get his shirt all the way up to his arm pits, exposing all his glory. So I begin to roll up the edges of his shirt, grabbing as much of the fabric as I can fit into my hands. As we approach the four men at the bus stop I throw Matt's shirt up and and yell "woo-hoo!" at the top of my lungs.

My husband is definitely not embarassed easily, but I thought this might just be the thing to embarass him...at least a little bit. Well I was wrong. Instead of trying to block my arms, or trying to pull his shirt back down, Matt sticks his chest out proudly, shakes his man-boobs, and yells "yee-haw!" as we pass the bus stop, receiving some very confused looks from the onlookers waiting for the bus.

And that is why I love my husband.

The end.