Monday, July 6, 2009

Day 12

Day 12! The Moped.

Over the duration of days 9 and 10 I got it into my head that I was going to explore Rome by moped. I woke up that morning nervous & excited about the safety and freedom. No more smelly public transportation. (I don't think they re-apply deodorant throughout the day.)

At the moped rental locale my first instructions were, "Take the bike off the stand." I thought, done. Wait - let me set the scene for you - There were 5 men of various ages standing around watching to see if I would be able to lift this thing. I grabbed onto it how Mr. Italian Man suggested, then attempted to raise and push. And nothing. Correction: I think I said, "Common!" twice. Mr. Moped then turned & said, "You have no strength." At that moment I felt quite puny and said, "I know." I'm telling you I nearly cried - I was so embarrassed and disappointed with myself. I held the tears back as he told me to rent a pedal bike. I could barely hear him, when the emotions kick in I don't hear things very well. I told him I'd think about it and would return later.

I then went to McDonalds for a latte. (Side note: Europe's McDonalds punches US's McDonalds in the face. There is no competition.) As I sat there I felt as if my emotions were a cup of tea being stirred with lemon and sugar. How can I further explain this...When you're traveling alone small kindnesses are marching bands that root one on, and the hiccups can be compared to annoying flesh wounds but worse. While seated there I felt the emotions, sipped the latte, and wrote about this in my journal. Anger said,  "ahh scuse me that douche said you didn't have any strength!" At this I put the journal away and said fuck that shit and went back.

The guy I had dealt with was out somewhere, yeah I didn't care, I got Mr. Moped #2. He was there, he saw the whole thing. When I got there he had this -- o not you again -- look on his face. I told him I wanted to try to lift the bike again because I knew I could do it. He reluctantly followed me outside. When I put my hands on that bike I knew I was going to lift it. This time I took a different stance, a more comfortable stance then what Mr. Douche bag had suggested. And I freed that fucking moped from it's silly kick stand. Ha I'm getting fired up again just thinking about it. Mr. Moped 2 then asked if I wanted the moped. My response was, "Nah I think I'm going to take a pedal bike." Haha. By that point it wasn't about the bike anymore. No-one tells me I can't. Before leaving I made sure to tell Mr. Moped 2 to clue in the other guy about my abilities. He nodded. I vanished. (Big Smile)

As crazy as all this sounds I rented the pedal bike and rode around for about 8 hours. For at least 3 of those hours I was lost or asking for directions to the river. Yes, that was my goal to bike along the river.  I eventually found it. I also did the Colosseum/Coliseum, which didn't impress me that much, and the Spanish Steps. I missed the flowers by showing up a week too late. Regardless of flowers, simply making it there stirred something inside me.  (This is what a badass looks like.)

When I got back to the rental shop they were closed, but I wasn't about to pay for an additional day, not with those douches. I locked the bike outside and slipped the key under the door with a note saying, "I'll be back to pay you tomorrow..XO Jane Feige."


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