MORON ENCOUNTER
I spend a lot of time
reading and rereading your “Best of owner feedback” articles. They never fail to
make me laugh. I’m sure somewhere in one of your many rejoinders I’ve heard you
mention a similar circumstance regarding all-too-well-known H-D clichés like the
one that happened to me. You think it will never happen to you. Well, it
happened to me.
First I’ll point out that I wasn’t even on my bike at the time. Nowhere near it.
It was at home. I was at Wal-Mart with a friend looking for one of those
inexpensive computer desks and talking about motorcycles. My friend has been
thinking about buying a bike for some time. He kept hearing a lot of the guys at
work talking about their Sunday rides and I guess it’s started to get to him. He
asked my opinion on what he should get.
I started by asking him what he wanted out of a motorcycle. Did he want it to
just putt around, cheap transportation, speed, or maybe a combination of all of
them. He was swayed a little more to the cruiser side and I told him that was
fine; just stay away from the H-D dealership in town. I had just barely started
explaining that you don’t need to spend more than 10 grand for a good bike when
this putz I’ll refer to as “Dude-Man” wearing a H-D “Live to ride, blah blah
blah” shirt interjected with “Dude, Harleys are the best, man!” (Now you see
where I came up with his little pseudonym?)
“Really? How so?”
“It’s American made, man…”
That’s where I cut in, “Stop! That is where you are wrong, dude! Saying Harleys
are made in America is like saying the moon is made of green cheese.” After a
short, stupid looking, glance I continued, “A good number of Harley’s components
are made in little places like Japan, China, and Taiwan. They’re boxed up, sent
here, and then the bikes are ‘assembled’ here. Harleys should be known as the
‘Assembled in America’ motorcycles.”
He asked me what type of bike I rode and I told him (GSX-R1000). I returned the
question and was astonished at Dude-Man’s response.
“I ain’t got no bike”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m getting my license next month.”
I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time. I couldn’t believe what just
happened. I mean I’d heard of it happening, but I considered it more folklore or
something equally as implausible. But no, they really exist. Morons, who have
never even kicked their leg over a bike, spouting about the grandeur of
Harley-Davidson. Re-damned-diculous!
I looked over at my friend, who seemed just as confused as good old Dude-man,
grabbed him by the shoulder and said, “Lets go, I’ve heard enough.”
Totally amazing.
Red