From time to time this summer I've flirted with the idea of letting my Ruckus go in order to move up to a larger scooter. All summer I've had it on Craigslist yet got no calls.
On Saturday evening I got a call from a man who said he definitely wanted it and would come and pick it up on Sunday at 10am. He did not haggle with my set price and said he wanted to turn it into a "pit bike".
I said, yes, come on, and he said he would call for directions on the way in the morning. After the call ended my blood ran cold with apprehension about whether I was doing the right thing selling my Ruckus. I had gotten used to the idea that I would not be selling it after all, only adding a larger scooter next season. Well, now I had a buyer, finally.
And I was not happy. Oh, we needed the money, no doubt. I have been looking for gainful employment and finding no takers these last months. Times are rough and jobs are few and older scooter riders are not in high demand! LOL
In all this challenge my scooter has come to mean more than just a machine made of metal and rubber sitting out in my garage. It has come to mean freedom from the stresses of constantly surfing the web for jobs, constantly emailing resumes, going to job iterviews and then hearing nothing or pulling rejection letters out of the mail box or off of the email. Constant stress, constant disappointment.
When I climb on my scooter and ride down a country road I feel young, powerful, happy, optimistic. Freed for a few hours from anxiety about the future or depression over the job lay-offs of the past few years. My identity becomes clear: I am a scooter rider!
Scootie becomes my "magic carpet ride" that glides me away from woe and worry and carries me to joy and peace, if only for a little while.
How could I bear to let her go? But there I was, stripping her of her bags, gremlin bell, cup holder, basket-everything. It hurt so bad and yet I kept trying to think positive and think toward the spring when I might be able to get another scooter.
So now it's Sunday morning. Ten o'clock came and went. Then eleven o'clock. Then noon! I heaved a huge sigh of relief...he wasn't coming! He was a "no show" and I was elated!
Scootie wasn't going anywhere!! Or at least not yet. Or maybe not at all. But I didn't want to think about any of that, I just wanted to put her gremlin bell, her cup holder, and her saddle bags back on where they belonged! She giggled with relief too...a PIT BIKE?! I don't think so!
So out in the garage I did just that with tears of gratitude for a "no show" buyer! I thought about next week when Indian Summer is to bring us temps of 70+ and sunny fall weather. Perfect for scooting! And I will be out there scooting along!
I will be able to ride to the road festival on Scootie next Friday and bring back funnel cakes, loaded stuffed potatoes, bar-be-que sandwiches with cole slaw, Amish baked bread, and joy in my heart! A few more rides to the grocery, to get coffee, to visit neighbors before winter sets in.
Oh, yes, I'm counting every moment to get a ride in...
As these thoughts coursed through my exhausted heart the song, "Magic Carpet Ride" echoed on the radio in my old drafty tin roof garage.
"Well you don't know what we can find. Why don't you come with me little girl, on a magic carpet ride?"...