New York, New York: Part II

One of my problems in life is that I find it difficult to write short blog posts. I used to be able to, but now I can’t. It’s not so much that the Muse has left me, as that the Muse sits around for too long each time she visits. Anyway, a sneaky little trick that I’ve used before to cover up my embarrassing problem is this: I write one blog post, and then I chop it in half and call it Part I and Part II. So without further ado about nothing, here is New York, New York Part II, also known as

The Harley Davidson story

It was a surprise birthday present for my sister-in-law, organized by Charlesinparis. She’s always wanted to go on a Harley (you don’t say the Davidson bit, apparently). She had the chance to do so on holiday in Australia a few years ago, turned it down, and has regretted it ever since. All she knew was that we had to be somewhere at 2.30pm. Throughout the morning, the odd hint was dropped about helicopter trips. Sneaky, huh?

At 2.30 we were waiting to cross a street, and she nudged my arm. “Look at that gorgeous Harley”. This was something of a conversational gift for me. “Have you ever been on one?” I asked innocently. “No” she said, and told me about Australia. “Would you still like a ride on one?”, which I realized as soon as I’d asked it was something of a dangerous question, since it would have been a disaster if she had replied “Oh no, it was just a passing fancy, and frankly what a waste of time and money that would have been”. Luckily she didn’t - phew - and with perfect timing worthy of the most predictable movie script, as we crossed the road towards the gleaming burgundy Harley, she said “I’d absolutely LOVE a ride on a Harley.” (Burgundy... One might even think plum-coloured, if one had read this…)

By this point I really did feel as if we were acting out a movie script. Perhaps there’s a ham actor in us all. Charlie kept it going admirably. He simply went up to the Harley rider, said “Hi Neil”, and shook hands. “Hi Charles” said Neil. “Nice bike” said Charlie, “Mind if I take a picture of it?” "Be my guest" said Neil.

At this point, I was watching my sister-in-law’s face, and I can tell you that the penny hadn’t dropped. She was puzzled but not suspicious. “This is my wife”, continued Charlie, and she shook Neil’s hand, her face fixed in a warm smile that did her great credit. Outwardly all warmth and smiles, inwardly desperately thinking “I haven’t a clue who this man is or how my husband knows him or what is going on here - keep smiling, girl, just keep smiling”. Really, she should be in the diplomatic service.

“Would you like to take her for a ride on your bike?” asked Charlie, and at that moment, I saw that penny drop. The smile unfixed itself, and became a grin of delight. Delight, realization, amusement, anticipation, a hint of embarrassment perhaps, sheer enjoyment of the moment – it was all in there.

Charlie had made sure she was dressed warmly, since we’d got the first ferry to the Statue of Liberty (and boy, was it cold queueing for tickets at 8.00 in the morning in Battery Park). So with the addition of sunglasses and a helmet (which I had to help her do up, as her hands were a bit shaky with all the excitement), she was all ready to go. And off they went.

Oh, I’ve missed one of my favourite moments. It was when they were both installed on the bike, just getting comfy. My sister-in-law couldn’t quite see where to put her hands (not obvious), so asked Neil “Is it ok if I put my hands on your waist?” He must have been in on the movie script thing, because he replied in a bit of a drawl “You can put your hands just wherever you like”.

Apparently you can have a good chat on a Harley. I’d assumed that the noise of the engine would drown out all conversation, but my sister-in-law and Neil had quite a natter, both on the bike and when they stopped for coffee to warm up (it was pretty cold on the bike, even with warm clothes). They started off through Central Park (“always a nice ride” said Neil), headed up into Harlem (“the bits you might not go to on your own”), and then sped around and cruised around for two and a half hours, with that one stop for coffee. My sister-in-law, the Biker.

All I can say is, Charlesinparis, if this is a precedent for birthday presents to your wife, that’s some challenge you’ve set yourself for the years ahead.