Motorcycle Show
JANUARY 23, 2010
Every year, I make the same mistake. I bring a bunch of camera gear to the International Motorcycle Show at the Javitz Center and wind up taking two pictures before remembering how impossible it is for me to take a good one there.
“Da problem wit comin’ to dis place is dat I wind up spendin’ money like wa-tuh,” said a square-shaped biker in stone-washed jeans and a leather vest that laced up the sides. I didn’t see the front of his T-shirt, but it’s a safe bet it had Harley-Davidson written on it somewhere, to match the black and orange bandana on his head. He had a chain wallet, too, of course. He was carrying a big plastic shopping bag filled with who knows what. There was so much crap for sale at the show, it could’ve been almost anything. One of the booths, under a banner that simply said, “Interesting Items,” had tables overflowing with the kind of knick-knacks you’d see on a Boy Scout camping checklist: scissors, tweezers, magnifying glasses, and so on. The guy with the bag was walking with two other similarly dressed weekend warriors, each with a bottle of Bud in one hand and a goody bag in the other.
Saying no thanks to the booth attendants trying to give you a free sample of this or that was exhausting. “How’d you like me to clean your glasses for free?” one of them asked.
“No thanks.”
“It fills in the scratches, too. Let me show you.”
“No.”
A woman asked me what shoe size I wore. “Aw, that’s an old wives’ tale,” I said.
A stroke of genius by the event organizers placed The Christian Motorcyclists Association’s booth next to Satan’s Cycles, though neither was doing much business.
My motorcycle is on display at the NYC VinMoto booth. “I used to have one of those,” the old timers never cease to say when they see it. “Except mine was…” and they go on to describe a completely different motorcycle.
Despite all the mountains of crap for sale, I only bought one thing: a NYC VinMoto T-shirt to replace the one that the nurse cut off of me in the ER when I broke my arm.
I also took a free bumper sticker from the Motorcycle Safety Foundation booth. They were giving away two with essentially the same message. One said, “Look out for us, please,” and the other was more direct: “Cars Kill People.”
Jason tried to hand me the one that said “Cars Kill People,” but I told him it was a little too in your face.
“You wouldn’t want people to be reminded that cars kill people or anything,” was Jason’s sarcastic reply. “Sure, just let the drivers continue to think their cars are big, safe, innocent bubbles.”
“Yeah, I get it, but I’d feel like a real asshole if I ever accidentally hit someone with that sticker on my bumper.”
