I bought a replacement for my Vespa yesterday.
Same model: ET4.
Same year: 2002.
Same color: platinum.
Of course, it has 7,700 fewer miles, it doesn’t have this little rattle when I start it up, and it doesn’t ride quite as rough. Those are all to the good, but I had grown fond of the rattle and the grind and the squeaky brakes. And of grumping about them.
Even better, I paid less for this bike than Geico paid out for my old one.
Heather asked me if I rode around all weekend on my new ET4. It had been a month since I’d scooted around, and I really wanted to get back on my bike.
But on Thursday evening, Chanel called me to suggest she and Finn and Ellie drive up from Portland for the weekend. How could I say no? And you can’t really put a three-year-old on any kind of motorcycle.