Biker Chick

I've always had this biker chick fantasy: me looking totally hot and kickass in a black leather catsuit, boots and silver mirrored Oakley shades. Never got to the part about what kind of bike I'd be riding though (don't know how to drive one anyway). And never mind that at the moment, I have the makings of a bike tire around my waist, not on my non-existent bike. Bottomline is, in my fantasy, I am such a babe.

Now, I sort of get to live the biker chick thing vicariously, through my babe of a sister, Rix. She recently bought herself a motorcycle. Not a kickass one yet, but a typical, practical bike. I tease her that she might be mistaken for a messenger, but so far, people seem to know that it's a girl driving her bike.

Couple of nights ago, I finally had the chance to ride with Rix on her bike. She picked me up in Galleria, for a sisterly ride home to her apartment in Pasay, where I would wait for The Hubby to pick me up. This was an impulse ride, so I was totally unprepared. For my next ride, I don't think I'd wear stilleto mules, a semi low-cut blouse (it had long sleeves though) and capris. I got toe cramps from clinging to my shoes.

Conversation with Rix right before the ride:

Rix: Ok, here's your helmet.
Me: Um...how do I put it on? (Note: this isn't as dumb as it sounds; I was wearing glasses)

I put on helmet over glasses, the latter get knocked off. I take off glasses and put on helmet, then attempt to wear glasses through the face plate. Won't work. I take off the helmet, put on glasses, hold glasses in place, then put on helmet again. Glasses become part of my head, but at least helmet is on.

Rix: (all through out helmet wearing session) Hehehehe.
Me: When you stop in traffic, do I put down my feet?
Rix: No.
Me: When you turn, do I balance the bike?
Rix: No! Go with the flow.
Me: Any other tips?
Rix: Don't make sudden moves.
Me: What if there's a bee on me?
Rix: Stay very still.
Me: Does mom know we're doing this?
Rix: Get on.

You know when you're in a car, and some biker weaves his way through the cars, and you look out your window, a bit freaked because the bike seems too close for comfort? Well, it's worse on a bike.

I could actually feel the buses and trucks breathing down our necks. Without turning my head, I simply knew if there was a bus beside us. And you can hear the pure unadulterated honks sans filtering through the car windows. Each time a bus or a car honked at us, I felt like jumping, except that Rix said not to make any sudden moves. I wanted to yell at the cars, buses, pedestrians and anything that moved, "Get out of the way!!!!!" I was glad that my main view from the back of the bike was the back of Rix's head (I didn't want to lean out to far to enjoy the view, in case that disrupted the balance of the bike). Imagine how it would be if I had an unobstructed view of where we were going.

I also felt like the Princess and the Pea. I could feel every pothole, every hump, every tiny pebble on the road. I swear. I felt it way down into my marrow. I had a slight headache when Rix picked me up. By Buendia, my brains were rattled and knocked all around my skull, exacerbating my headache. I almost got bike-sick. I was really thankful that I didn't have to pee.

But once I got used to the ride, I started to enjoy it. The cool wind was whistling through my helmet. The view a little past Rix's helmet was a different perspective. I even managed to pry a hand at a time from its death grip on Rix's jacket to fix my helmet and adjust my glasses.

We finally got to the apartment. Rix dislodged me, shaky-kneed, and windblown, while she went to park the bike next door. Inside the yard, I discovered that I forgot to ask Rix how to take the helmet off. I couldn't figure out where the unlock clasp was. I struggled with it for several minutes, trying to look like I did this everyday, while the neighbors watched. I finally gave up, and decided to scrounge around for the keys instead, so I could wait for Rix to help me with the helmet inside the privacy of the apartment. Try looking for keys in the dark, with your head sort of flopping around from the helmet, without looking stupid.

When Rix came, I was sitting on the couch, watching TV with my helmet on. A portrait of the ultimate biker chick.