THE RIDE

I always said I wanted to go up in a hot air balloon ride before I died. Everyone knows how scared I am of heights. Why would I even think of such a ride? But I took another ride I'd never dreamed I do.
One day, last summer, I was coming home from Rock Port and the transmission went out of my car. I had enough speed to pull off the road and park it. Then I walked.
Pretty soon, a guy I knew came along riding a motorcycle. I thought, "I'm not getting on that thing."
But I did.
I said,(as I climbed expertly on this hog) "Where do I hang on?"
"You don't." he said, "Unless you hang on to me."
Hang on, I did. I'm sorry about the claw marks in the midriff. Those should heal up in a couple weeks. The broken ribs, however, may take a little longer. You did tape them, didn't you?
It was that corner we took. I swear, it was on two wheels. I yelled, but I guess he didn't hear me.
What a ride... out in the wild blue yonder, the wind blowing in my hair, and me clenched to this guy's sides.
You could have knocked Tom over with a feather when he saw me riding up on that motorcycle. He almost acted like he didn't believe it.
Say, when is this Sturgis thing anyway? Do I need tatoos?