The real life of a scooter girl

Picture this; after a great day on campus I retire to my sparkling blue 150 cc scooter. As I appoarch I become more and more anixious to ride it, so when I am at the last 20 feet away I sprint for my scooter. When I arrive I am out of breath, not because of my sprint, but the stunning beauty of my scooter. I carefully put in the key, hold down brake and start the engine, it lets out a sweet purr...... rum rum. I look in both of my mirrors and slowly back up out the "scooter parking" (yes there is a special parking for scooters, front row baby), I am ready for the best part of my day. I pull back on the gas and it climbs to 30 mph and I am on St. george blvd. With my head phones in and listening to scar tissue by red hot chili peppers. I envison myself in a action movie swicthing lanes with my blinker and stopping at red lights just so everyone can check out the merchandise (I am talking about my scooter duh!). My hair under my helmet is blowing in the wind and the sun is setting, everything is a dream. However the dream ends when I look down and I am almost on empty, so I pull into maverick and fill up my tank for 1.95. "Wow gas is expensive these days" I think to myself. Now that I had gas in my tank I was off once more to reach my home, which is about 5 miles from maverick. I ran it up to 55 mph and I was home safetly. With a smile on my face and a satisfied feeling inside I put down the kick stand and walked into my apartment.