Back from the Beach

It's Tuesday and I'm back at work a little less stressed. I had a good time on my trip. I almost thought I wasn't going because my friend-boy was not feeling the love this year at Myrtle Beach's Bike week. Apparently the police were cracking down quite a bit more at this year's event. His fellow club members, however, talked him into staying and I left Saturday afternoon. When I arrived, the strip was crawling with cars and bikes from several different states. I quickly learned to drive a lot more aggressively than the usual dog-eat-dog fashion of Atlanta traffic. I finally made my way to the hotel and he asked me if I wanted to ride. I was like, "Sure!" Especially since this was my first time ever on a motorcycle. The sights of complete partydom filled all my senses. All seemed to be having a good time. The next day I donned my short-shorts (which made me look like a nun next to many of the scantily-clad girls there) and again took the seat behind the master of the machine. Man, what a turn-on this was! And I can totally see how riding can become addictive. I've never experienced anything quite like it. The weather was perfect and when he opened it up there was just wind and speed (plus we weren't wearing helmets so there was the element of danger going on as well). I loved it and I think I might have to get me one of those. Anyway, he was a great host despite his dampened enthusiasm. What I didn't like about the weekend was having my picture taken without permission by random men. It felt creepy like they were stealing from me in some way. On the other hand, I was a bit flattered by the stroking of my ego. I was both fascinated and appalled by the many ways men think of to objectify women and how these same women go along with it willingly and in many cases, encourage it.