Yesterday it was like spring in NYC. It was 60 degrees, sunny, and perfect. I was walking around all day in a DRESS. Yes, a DRESS and FLIP FLOPS. I know. I know. It was out of this world.
I was walking down 10th Street and all of the sudden I heard the Bee Gees', "Stayin' Alive" blaring from somewhere. Loud music blaring from an undisclosed location is not unheard of in the East Village, but this was reallllly loud. I noticed others looking in a certain direction so I turned my head. And there he was.
A huge dude with long curly black hair on a custom made motorcycle, bright cherry read, with built in speakers in the back. The music was coming from him. I was dying.
I especially died when the two 15 year old boys walking towards me started doing the John Travolta, "Saturday Night Fever" strut exactly, and snapped and winked at me as they walked by. It was classic.
I gotta get me one of them bikes.
I was walking down 10th Street and all of the sudden I heard the Bee Gees', "Stayin' Alive" blaring from somewhere. Loud music blaring from an undisclosed location is not unheard of in the East Village, but this was reallllly loud. I noticed others looking in a certain direction so I turned my head. And there he was.
A huge dude with long curly black hair on a custom made motorcycle, bright cherry read, with built in speakers in the back. The music was coming from him. I was dying.
I especially died when the two 15 year old boys walking towards me started doing the John Travolta, "Saturday Night Fever" strut exactly, and snapped and winked at me as they walked by. It was classic.
I gotta get me one of them bikes.
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