Taking Retarded to a Whole New Level, Part 2 (part 1 was the sunburn)

This is the scooty belonging to my coworkers, Indrani and Anurag. Last week Jasdeep asked for their keys so he could test out the scooty in the neighborhood. He just went to the sweet shop and back, no problems. They weren't even hesitant to give him the keys, which I thought was pretty brave considering he hasn't ever driven a motorcycle.

So, a few days ago we thought it would be a good idea to take the scooty to get lunch, which would require us to leave Milk Man Colony. Once again, Jasdeep and I got the keys, no questions asked. Indrani only asked that we "bring it back in one piece." Before tackling Pal Road, which is a pretty chaotic highway, we decided to take some test runs down the street.

Jasdeep drove first. It's pretty scary to go slow on a scooty because they really aren't balanced at all. Jasdeep was slowly puttering down the lane and putting his legs down ever so often when it felt like we would tump over. I wasn't too impressed with his driving skills.

Then it was my turn. I knew this would be easy for 4 reasons:

1. I have a helmet.
2. I have motorcycle accident insurance.
3. I'm coordinated and have good balance and eye-hand coordination.
4. I can drive a jetski...a scooty is just like that but without the water. (Yes, this was an actual thought of mine.)

So I get on and Jasdeep, the recent scooty pro, tells me how to make it go and how to make it stop. The go is the right handle bar and the stop is on the left. Pretty much, it's easier than riding a bicycle. So I'm set.

I take off pretty fast through Lane 3 of Milk Men Colony, cow dung spewing in my wake.

"I'm damn good at this," I say to myself. And at this point I know I will purchase a motorcycle when I get back to Bama.

After two blocks I'm feeling that the straight lane is getting a little boring, so I decide to take a sharp turn. Only problem is that I got a little too excited and forgot how to brake.

Seeing that I would inevitably crash into a gate, I accelerated. It was like being in a dream and not being able to scream. Next thing I know I'm laid out under the scooty and the neighbors come out to see what happened.

"What happened," an old, round man asks.

"Oh, I was just driving this scooty...I've never driven one before and I don't have a license," I said.

I walked Mr. Scooty back to the office and decided that I'd take a rickshaw to lunch.