The Vespa
Vespas. When my husband first told me that he wanted to get a vespa, I had no idea what he was talking about. He continued on, “It would save on gas having to drive to work.”
Recently, the store he managed had been shut down by corporate. The problem wasn’t his management but the fact that they opened the store he was managing about a mile or so down the street from the first store the chain had ever built, and with customers so accustomed to going to the first store why would they go to the newer one down the street that offered nothing more than the first. So sales were horrible. The real question though is who’s brilliant idea at corporate was to put two stores so close together and expect sales to be high for both when the customer base was not any larger?
So my husband was given a few options, he could take a severance package of about 4 weeks worth of pay, he could commute to another store on the opposite side of town and work as an assistant manager and if he didn’t like that he could quit in the first 3 months of being there and still receive the severance or he could quit later and get nothing.
He decided to try the commute. It killed our budget with the difference in gas. So here we were with him trying to convince me about buying a vespa.
“The payments, increase in insurance and cost of gas for it would be less than what I am paying for gas in my car now.” Obviously he had been thinking about this for a while to do the research. I still wasn’t sure what a vespa was.
“Isn’t that one of those scooter-type things?” I asked him. His answer only seemed to confuse me more so I will not share it with you incase you happen to be like me and not already understand the difference or care. Just imagine those scooter-things you see in movies, especially in the movies where you see those couples in Italy or France riding around on those pastel blue scooters- those are vespas.
“We can look into it if its really going to save us…”
So one Saturday in July we made a trip to the other side of town to a Vespa/BMW motorcycle dealership. There sitting in the show room is one of those pastel blue vespas just like in the movies, and of course my tough guy husband falls in love with it. Couldn’t he of picked a black one? These things are pretty wimpy looking as it is and I could just imagine my husband riding around on this pastel blue vespa wearing one of those biker helmets with the tall spike sticking out the top…. But according to him the blue one looks more “vintage”.
So we sat down and filled out the financing paperwork and called my parents who had a truck to meet us. Turns out that these wimpy looking things aren’t so wimpy and actually require a motorcycle license to drive, so the dealership wouldn’t let us drive it off the lot without proof of the license.
The following Monday was like any typical Monday. I got up, got ready for work, rushed the kids out the door and headed to my mother-in-law’s to drop them off before work. Throughout the day I received multiple text messages from my husband full of appreciative thank you’s and love you’s.
“Wanna try it?” He asks as soon as I get in the door at home.
“Sure, it looks fun,” I replied as I went to change out of work clothes before giving it a shot.
We went out front where he had me put the helmet on. (I was pretty accurate with my prediction at the dealership. He did end up getting one of those bullet shaped biker helmets, just no spike on top.) Before I could even turn on the ignition he proceeded with going over the basics. The brakes, the accelerator, the turning signals and the horn.
He even had me practice getting it on and off the kick-stand. I found this part quite difficult for the fact I am not a big person (and I am a total wimp) and even though they don’t look like much, vespas weigh like 300 pounds. I did it. I was finally ready to ride.
I first went around the block to get a feel for it. I thought I was going to die, but it was fun. So I went around again, this time feeling much more confident.
When I returned my husband said he was going to take the vespa over to his grandmother’s to drop something off. His grandparents’ house was no further away than a trip around the block and at this point I was so excited about riding the vespa, I insisted I would take it there.
The trip over there was fine. I was able to get the vespa onto the kickstand with ease.
My mother-in-law and her husband were there as well. I was so excited about my feat and told them about how I managed to do a couple of trips around the block and even rode over to the house.
They shared in my excitement and followed me outside to see me off when I went to head home.
I approached the end of the driveway and stopped before making my right turn onto the street to check for traffic.
I went to turn. I was going less than 5 miles per hour. The vespa didn’t want to turn sharp enough. I made a wide, wide, I mean WIDE right turn.
Actually it was more like I went at the curb across the street at an angle. I tried to hit the brakes before hitting the curb but I knocked the accelerator causing me to jump the squared off curb, pointing me at a short block wall.
As this horrific loss of control was taking place, it occurred to me if I attempted to jump off the back of this vespa it was going to hurt a LOT less than if I am on it when it hits the wall I was uncontrollably heading towards.
I tried to jump, without accomplishment. I had made it half way off, causing myself to get stuck between the vespa and the wall when it hit. I had become the vespa’s cushion against the brick. Luckily I was not penned between the two and the vespa continued its path, bumping against the wall and the ground as it came to a stop down the sidewalk ahead of me.
I had just crashed my husband’s brand new vespa; The vespa that I had just bought for him, not even a full two days ago.
Luckily my in-laws were all outside and got the pleasure of witnessing this horrific, humiliating event and could rush to my rescue.
I had literally a dent in the side of my left shin of the exact size of the kickstand bar from where it had hit me. My knees were both bleeding and swollen and I could not stand. I had to be carried. My husband was called and he took me to the urgent care.
After the grass stains were scrubbed the best they could be off my skin, and the x-rays were taken, I was given stitches in my right knee, a brace for my sprained left ankle and a pair of crutches to use for the next few weeks. Luckily the crutches wouldn’t have to be used as long as I was prescribed to do physical therapy for.
The wimpy pastel blue vespa was totaled.May I also remind you that I was going less than 5 miles per hour and just pulling out of a driveway when this all happened?
Recently, the store he managed had been shut down by corporate. The problem wasn’t his management but the fact that they opened the store he was managing about a mile or so down the street from the first store the chain had ever built, and with customers so accustomed to going to the first store why would they go to the newer one down the street that offered nothing more than the first. So sales were horrible. The real question though is who’s brilliant idea at corporate was to put two stores so close together and expect sales to be high for both when the customer base was not any larger?
So my husband was given a few options, he could take a severance package of about 4 weeks worth of pay, he could commute to another store on the opposite side of town and work as an assistant manager and if he didn’t like that he could quit in the first 3 months of being there and still receive the severance or he could quit later and get nothing.
He decided to try the commute. It killed our budget with the difference in gas. So here we were with him trying to convince me about buying a vespa.
“The payments, increase in insurance and cost of gas for it would be less than what I am paying for gas in my car now.” Obviously he had been thinking about this for a while to do the research. I still wasn’t sure what a vespa was.
“Isn’t that one of those scooter-type things?” I asked him. His answer only seemed to confuse me more so I will not share it with you incase you happen to be like me and not already understand the difference or care. Just imagine those scooter-things you see in movies, especially in the movies where you see those couples in Italy or France riding around on those pastel blue scooters- those are vespas.
“We can look into it if its really going to save us…”
So one Saturday in July we made a trip to the other side of town to a Vespa/BMW motorcycle dealership. There sitting in the show room is one of those pastel blue vespas just like in the movies, and of course my tough guy husband falls in love with it. Couldn’t he of picked a black one? These things are pretty wimpy looking as it is and I could just imagine my husband riding around on this pastel blue vespa wearing one of those biker helmets with the tall spike sticking out the top…. But according to him the blue one looks more “vintage”.
So we sat down and filled out the financing paperwork and called my parents who had a truck to meet us. Turns out that these wimpy looking things aren’t so wimpy and actually require a motorcycle license to drive, so the dealership wouldn’t let us drive it off the lot without proof of the license.
The following Monday was like any typical Monday. I got up, got ready for work, rushed the kids out the door and headed to my mother-in-law’s to drop them off before work. Throughout the day I received multiple text messages from my husband full of appreciative thank you’s and love you’s.
“Wanna try it?” He asks as soon as I get in the door at home.
“Sure, it looks fun,” I replied as I went to change out of work clothes before giving it a shot.
We went out front where he had me put the helmet on. (I was pretty accurate with my prediction at the dealership. He did end up getting one of those bullet shaped biker helmets, just no spike on top.) Before I could even turn on the ignition he proceeded with going over the basics. The brakes, the accelerator, the turning signals and the horn.
He even had me practice getting it on and off the kick-stand. I found this part quite difficult for the fact I am not a big person (and I am a total wimp) and even though they don’t look like much, vespas weigh like 300 pounds. I did it. I was finally ready to ride.
I first went around the block to get a feel for it. I thought I was going to die, but it was fun. So I went around again, this time feeling much more confident.
When I returned my husband said he was going to take the vespa over to his grandmother’s to drop something off. His grandparents’ house was no further away than a trip around the block and at this point I was so excited about riding the vespa, I insisted I would take it there.
The trip over there was fine. I was able to get the vespa onto the kickstand with ease.
My mother-in-law and her husband were there as well. I was so excited about my feat and told them about how I managed to do a couple of trips around the block and even rode over to the house.
They shared in my excitement and followed me outside to see me off when I went to head home.
I approached the end of the driveway and stopped before making my right turn onto the street to check for traffic.
I went to turn. I was going less than 5 miles per hour. The vespa didn’t want to turn sharp enough. I made a wide, wide, I mean WIDE right turn.
Actually it was more like I went at the curb across the street at an angle. I tried to hit the brakes before hitting the curb but I knocked the accelerator causing me to jump the squared off curb, pointing me at a short block wall.
As this horrific loss of control was taking place, it occurred to me if I attempted to jump off the back of this vespa it was going to hurt a LOT less than if I am on it when it hits the wall I was uncontrollably heading towards.
I tried to jump, without accomplishment. I had made it half way off, causing myself to get stuck between the vespa and the wall when it hit. I had become the vespa’s cushion against the brick. Luckily I was not penned between the two and the vespa continued its path, bumping against the wall and the ground as it came to a stop down the sidewalk ahead of me.
I had just crashed my husband’s brand new vespa; The vespa that I had just bought for him, not even a full two days ago.
Luckily my in-laws were all outside and got the pleasure of witnessing this horrific, humiliating event and could rush to my rescue.
I had literally a dent in the side of my left shin of the exact size of the kickstand bar from where it had hit me. My knees were both bleeding and swollen and I could not stand. I had to be carried. My husband was called and he took me to the urgent care.
After the grass stains were scrubbed the best they could be off my skin, and the x-rays were taken, I was given stitches in my right knee, a brace for my sprained left ankle and a pair of crutches to use for the next few weeks. Luckily the crutches wouldn’t have to be used as long as I was prescribed to do physical therapy for.
The wimpy pastel blue vespa was totaled.May I also remind you that I was going less than 5 miles per hour and just pulling out of a driveway when this all happened?
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