It all started with a cruise-ship stop in Key West last May.
A group of us- including current bartender John and former doorguy Tyler- rented scooters as soon as we
got off the boat and zoomed around the island for a few hours. At least until we found the Schooner Wharf bar, which distracted us from the scooters for awhile. {Look at what good Lawrencians we were while in Florida- wearing shirts that advertised bars in our hometown.}
Fast forward almost two months to my birthday at the end of June. I had been at my new job on campus for exactly a month, and Dave had figured out the perfect gift: a scooter. He researched and learned all about the little bikes and picked out a Yamaha Zuma on Craigslist. It was definitely a surprise, but a pleasant one, once I understood the convenience this would bring me in my daily life. Bypassing the parking booths that control every entrance to campus; riding right up to my door and parking in the bicycle racks; not having to hassle with red-zone parking lots. Yes, I love my scooter.
Everyone else loved it too. So much so, that other people started buying them. Brother Pants was next with his little Metropolitan (cue the metrosexual jokes here). Then Michelle got one, followed by Blair. And, of course, Dave couldn't stand not having his own, so now there are five Sandbar folks with scooters. Enough to form a gang of our own.
Scooters have made the news, too. The LJW (forgive me for yet another link to the local paper) did a story a few months ago about their increasing popularity. And a scooter-riding actor Mickey Rourke was arrested in Miami Beach for suspicion of driving under the influence.
Here's Dave, clowning around on Pants' Metropolitan, and Pants, taking my scooter for a spin.
We're accepting new members, if you want to join our group. No drinking and riding allowed.
