Motorcycles

She's excited for the motorcycle season to begin. It isn't driving them that she likes, it's getting a ride on the back of them. She likes taking sharp turns (the faster the better), being out of control, the excitement of panic.

I've met other girls who feel the same way and never understood it. On the other hand, I've never met a guy who likes the back of a motorcycle, no matter how much of a motorcycle enthusiast he is. Is there a man alive who likes to be a passenger on the back of someone else's motorcycle? — who would choose to be a passenger over driving?

I can imagine a census being conducted that might reveal something essential about our differences. Which might in turn illuminate all the previously inexplicable hare-brained misunderstandings between the sexes. We'll all go, "Of course! It's because women like to ride on the back of motorcycles and men don't!" Then we can live happily. Men won't feel the need to leave toilet seats up and women won't complain about it when we do, because, well, we'll never do it again.

Meanwhile, piped-in Bob Dylan plays over the chatter. Which song is this? Can't place it. And I thought I knew his entire repertoire. But nobody knows Bob Dylan's entire repertoire. Not even Bob Dylan.