Motorcycles are Sexy.

My driver’s license proudly sports an “M” in the Endorsements area because – wait for it – I have my motorcycle endorsement. After passing an unbelievably fun and challenging 3-day class a few years ago, I was awarded the coveted ability to become a freeway scalpel. YESSSS.

I love sport motorcycles with the fiery burning passion of a thousand white-hot suns.

My first bike was a 2003 Suzuki Bandit 600s, and holy crap I loved that thing. I had it for about a year before the condo complex Nazis told me I couldn’t park my car AND my bike in my parking spot. EFFERS.

So, I sold it and cried deeply. Or just kicked stuff, I don’t really remember.

ANYWAY.

Get a paper towel ready because if you’re anything like me, you’re about to drool all over your keyboard.

*DROOOOOOOOOL*

This is my DREAM bike: the Ducati Monster 796, in arctic white silk with a red trellis frame. I’m almost confident Ducati had me in mind, specifically, when designing this bike. It’s the perfect size and dry weight for me as a rider, and I don’t want to go any bigger on engine size because I’m not interested in killing myself.

The Monster, as far as naked bikes go, is the epitome of sexy. Every time I sit on it at the Ducati shop that I frequently visit like a dying rich relative, I hear the Archangel Gabriel himself play the upbeat section of Stairway to Heaven on a Fender Stratocaster while white lights shine on my hair that is blown backward by a mysterious gust of sexy wind. Suddenly, I’m pushing 110 mph in full Icon leathers with my matte black SHOEI helmet and gauntlet-style Alpinestars gloves, fighting for first place in the Isle of Man TT. If any of that made sense to you, let’s do lunch.

But alas, it is always short-lived, thanks to the Italian guy who works at the Ducati shop telling me to stop making “vroom” noises because it’s freaking out customers. Then he asks who told me I could sit on the bike. Then I run.

One day I’ll throw caution and hard-earned cash to the wind and purchase my cream-colored Ducati. I really miss motorcycling and hope I still remember how to make bike go. I probably will because it’s… just like… riding a bike? Does that phrase apply to motorcycles? I’m going to assume it does.

So THERE, see? I’m not just obsessed with video games; I’m also obsessed with motorcycles, name-brand cereal, and Clint Eastwood. But not necessarily in that order.