For the love of Vespa

Seven years ago, when I first saw that pastel pink Vespa (a princess in her own right) in the display window of a shop downtown, I was instantly in love. How could I not be? Her cupcake pink hue, her gleaming chrome, her style – I had to have her. And every opportunity I got, I would go down and stare at that little princess, envisioning myself atop her, with a smile that could only be accented by Marilyn red lipstick, and a rosy glow on my wind-flushed cheeks. The logistics of my commute, however, just didn’t work for a Vespa lifestyle. And soon, my pink princess was sold. Fast forward a few years and the love for the Vespa hit me again, smack hard in the face. Big Ring and I were in Nice at the time, checking out an Italian festival. While his eyes were drawn to the shiny …

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