Jumpstart

Justin and I share a garage, he's a good coworker/buddy and he has a WAY COOL harley.
(It's not that cool)
He lives close so we split the cost of the garage, we've put carpet in it and hung chandlers, and the place is wonderful and has become a great lil spot to keep our bikes.

Justin called me up last night and asked if I could take pictures of a bike (His Aunts run a car dealership and had a new bike come in and wanted pictures of it.)
I'm quite sure it was just an excuse to take advantage of the opportunity to drive it around.

So we took it on a Saturday Joy ride, getting mad at anyone who would not look at us.
Felt like I needed a scarf, a fitted dress and a dog to sit on my lap with a matching scarf.
Justin kept hoping that the side car would fly off like in the movies and I would speed off in a different direction and Justin would be oblivious.

Blurry pictures with a lamp that ruined the day. . . 

 Would would think that you may feel like the lesser person in the side car, but it is exactly the opposite. I felt like I was royalty in that thing, cartoon royalty.