Wednesday, June 11, 2008

"That's My Moped!"

Oh -- almost forgot.

I put some gas in the Vino at the Pilot @ Centennial and Briley, last night. A dude approached me, asking the usual scooter questions. Then he said, "Where did you get that?"

"From a private individual."

"That's my moped, man! It was stolen not too long ago!"

"Well, okay. I've had it since April, 2007, and have a title. Go call the cops, and they'll check it out for you."

"No, man... I know that's my moped!"

"Like I said, call the cops -- 862-8600. West Precinct is just a few miles from here; they'll have a car out here in under 20 minutes. I'll wait for 'em. Look -- here's the VIN number. Write it down, call the cops..."

"Naw, man. Naw. It just looks like my moped. [pause] Man, I know that's mine."

"Here is the VIN. Follow. My. Finger. Dood. [pointing, then prying off plastic frame cover] If it's yours, that VIN number will prove it."

"Naw, man. Forget it. Forget it. I don't wanna call no cops."

"Well, that's the only way to settle it, 'cause I'm sure as hell not giving you my scooter!"

Guy turns and goes into the store. I leave without incident.


  1. I wonder what the hell the dude expected from that.

  2. I guess he thought I was stupid, or somethin'. I kept the helmet on, the whole time, and kept an eye on him, of course.

  3. That same thing happened to my cousin when we were in Memphis. Some guy swore my cousins Honda CBR was his. This guy got the cops to come. Then he drove home to get his title. crazy. Guess it shows how emotionally attached people get to thier bikes.