After taking several strolls around the car lot (with the creepy, hyper-enthusiastic salesmen breathing down your back), you just couldn’t make up your mind. Nothing excited you—it was all too boring. Then, right behind the 06’ Honda Civic, you heard the call. It revved the engine in your heart and suddenly nothing was the same.
One Google search later and you were wandering aisles of hogs—each one more glimmering than the next. You were truly in love. Hogs are what you call motorcycles, right? Well, it doesn’t matter. A bright red hog found its way into your heart and so you signed away six years of your life…and life is better already.
Well, sort of.
It turns out that you need a whole new permit and license to drive a motorcycle. That was news to you. And, it’s not as it easy as it looked on Sons of Anarchy. While your friends frolicked on the beach wearing a minimal amount of clothes, you were burning rubber in your leathers, enjoying the fresh, crisp air…of the neighborhood around your place. It was still the best summer ever. You finally understand what country songs are about.
But your other love didn’t understand. She thinks your beautiful hog is a “death trap” because it “almost killed you.” She’s over-exaggerating. You got excited one night and just wanted to hear the sweet baby purr before you went to sleep. You meant to press down on the brake but pressed down on the pedal and BAM: you went face-first into the garage door.
The sound itself was enough for you to see angels and the heaven’s light shining from above. Although that could have been from a mild concussion, it was totally worth it. Your girlfriend didn’t understand; she said you were careless and “childish!” for putting so much emphasis on an inanimate object.
But your baby is not just an inanimate object—it’s an extensive of self. It’s a two-wheeled symbol for your fighting spirit. The red paint is the color of your approachable-yet-alluring looks. The exquisite shine on the chrome represents your sophisticated-yet-rebel style. When you rode, you were at peace. Blaring at the speed of light (if it was 25 mph) was the only way you wanted to live.
But alas, the summer is over and your girlfriend said it’s either her or the bike. And unfortunately, the doctor said you have to stop riding at least for a while because of your accident.
Don’t worry. You can leave your baby with StorBox. With our 41 security cameras and ample room, you know you’ll be running rubber again once winter is over. Call us today to talk about how we can hook you up with a unit.