Hot summer day, a full tank, pedal to the metal. The road is mine. The wind is struggling to catch up. This is what I call freedom. You have to stop at some point though. The gas station as old as a desert will do. Coffee is surprisingly good, maybe it's because the cashier flirted with me. It's not every day that somebody compliments my look, OK the belt but I‘ll take it. I knew it was the real deal, the leather and everything. I am not taking it off, ever.