So, I gots me some enthusiasm.

When I first got to San Francisco, one of my pals sold me an old Yamaha Riva he had, and I put almost 30,000 miles on it in 13 years. Man, I loved that old piece of junk. Seventy miles a gallon, two bucks to fill up the tank, fifty bucks a year in insurance; park wherever you want. And since San Francisco is a two-wheel-friendly town with better weather than most places, you can use it all year long.

Near the end there it was spending more time in the shop than on the road, so I ended up getting a Derbi Boulevard:

And I rode that all around until the baby came and I had to swap over to the CRV. But every once in awhile, I go up to the store or have to head somewhere where I don't feel like finding a spot to park the car, so I get on the ol' scooter and scoot from here to there. But I find myself driving a lot more carefully, and stopping at four way intersections like a little old lady instead of rolling through with a "Sunset Stop" like everyone else out here in the Avenues, because my baby needs his Daddy.

So Mimi was getting the boy bundled up to go to Day Care and head off to Adobe, and I strapped him in his seat in the back of the Scion and asked her, "Hey, you have your phone, yeah?" Mimi's got a lot of stuff going on and even though she needs that thing to get through the day, she often forgets it. "Yes, I have my phone," she said, and she split for work.

I walked upstairs to get some breakfast before I finish up lettering Dugout, and sure enough, there's her phone, sitting on the table.

Well, I can't call her and tell her to come back and get it, what with her phone being in the kitchen instead of with her. I can call Sofiya's and tell them to tell her to come back and get her phone, but she'll be late for a work meeting. I can get in the car and chase her down, but I'll never catch up to her with all the morning traffic.

But then I remember that I gots me some enthusiasm for my old faithful scooter, who's just waiting in the garage for me to take 'im out for this sort of family emergency. So I fire up the engine and go up Rivera until I cross Sunset, take a right at the first stop sign and head up Santiago, missing all the lights and signs and the crazy traffic on Taraval. I get there right as Mimi is ringing Sofiya's doorbell.

"What are you doing?" she laughed.

"Forget something?"

"No... oh."

So I gave her her phone and waved goodbye, and the Boulevard and I went home. Where he sits in the garage, waiting until the next time we can go out and play.