California Scooter Diaries: The Things We Do

I've been considering getting a scooter for my daily commute; the more I dig into this quandary the less enthused I am about the whole episode. There is such a wide variance in price and information from folks involved, it's a little scary to think that all these same scooter drivers are out on the same road with me and everyone. I went to see one scooter in particular and was drawn back to the question of why we do the things we do.

Alexis was his name but let's call him Alex (because he used both in the matter of a couple of minutes). So Alex got the scooter all ready for me and I think he thought I was going to whip out a grand and tell him to keep the change (he was asking 900) and that I was going to just ditch my car and speed off into the night on his scooter. When I spoke to Alex on the phone he told me how great this scooter was, how it was brand new, how it elicited stares from passersby, how free and open it had made him, how he went to the beaches at Santa Monica every weekend and how there were only 160 miles on this vehicle. And that it was brand new. Did I mention the brand new? In the Craigslist ad there were pictures included; these were stock photos from the Vespa dealer and not his own photographs, still; he assured me that this vehicle and a showroom model could not be told apart.

In a momentary lapse of reasoning I took him up on his offer and said I'd jettison straight over to his North Hollywood home to meet with him. North Hollywood is 18 miles from the Santa Monica Beaches by the way. With a minimum of 36 miles round trip between his house and the beach, (on local roads; this scooter was not authorized for highway travel) he could have feasibly gone there and there only 5 times total. And that's it. But, according to his own accounts, he went there freely every weekend; all summer.

I approached his house in a very industrial neighborhood of North Hollywood but still wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. I lived in a pretty industrial neighborhood; in fact my last Manhattan apartment was totally industrial (at the mouth on the Manhattan side of the Lincoln Tunnel) so who the heck was I to prejudge somebody based on where they live? I exited the car and got on the phone to announce myself. Alex lived in an apartment complex with the addresses cut into fractions so I wanted to be sure I was calling on the right apartment. He was in fact out on the sidewalk, walking his dog; he called out my name and I turned to face him. Alex was a tall athletic guy, maybe 6"1 190; in jogging pants and a beret, tugging along a very hyperactive Dachshund; I extended my arm in greetings and we both set off for his scooter.

Alex repeated much of what he'd already told me including the newness of his unit and the fact of the very low mileage. The engine was running; he excused himself to tend to his dog and I observed the vehicle.

Okay I don't know a lot about scooters or motorcycles but I am quite familiar with new stuff. My wife insists on it, generally. And her influence made me something of a discerning snob when it comes to the newness of stuff. This scooter may be running; the odometer sat before me, but this scooter was not new. There whole thing appeared to be encased in a big sticker of some kind and this sticker was peeling considerably. The paint had chips, the body had dings, and there was substantial wear and tear; well beyond the 160 miles quoted. (I didn't have the conversion on hand, but the readout on the odometer was 574; when he told me that was kilometers and not miles and that the conversion was around 160 miles, I took him at his word. This didn't seem right to me; it was not. 574 km=357 miles; more than double the 160 miles quoted).

There was also the matter of the side view mirrors. There were two side view mirrors on this Vespa which would for all intents substitute for a solitary center rearview mirror, I imagine. The left side view mirror was fine (or as fine as any mirror on a scooter of this age would be) the bar which the right side view mirror sat on, however, was wrapped in gray electrical tape; from the base of the cycle straight up to the mirror. However Alex was quick to rationalize this too; "Oh, that! Well this is a brand new scooter and the only thing about that mirror was that the bike was parked and it fell over. So...But everything else about this is brand new. Brand new." Now imagine you're going into a car dealership and having them quote you Kelly Blue Book numbers on a car that had its front fender held up with chicken wire. Or going to an electronics retailer and having them try and sell you a television with no volume buttons or wall plug for full price; it's just not new! Alexis the scooter guy was trying to run me up the same rail!

It was then, sitting on this crappy scooter, lunging around the parking lot of this ghetto building, that I began to wonder about why we do the things we do? Why do people try to shyster other people? What can this do for our society? Do we really believe these lies we tell other people? Are these lies we're telling ourselves? And what can be done to make a better world, really, for us all? It's a question worth considering the next time you're trying to pull the wool over some innocent person's eye. Because not everyone is as discerning as I am and when people get ripped off, it just makes them bitter and angry. And the cycle continues.