There’s no more effeminate mode of motorised transport currently available for purchase in Australia than the Vespa. It’s the single most camp two-wheeled contraption currently populating the back-alleys, promenades and arterial motorways of the country. This morning, I saw a guy proudly riding one dressed head to toe in racing leathers complete with an open face helmet with a racing stripe and mirrored aviators. It was absolutely the last thing I needed on a hungover drive to work. Whilst I applaud his safety consciousness with his choice of attire, he looked the right fuckhead. He clearly hadn’t realised that he was riding a scooter, not a motorbike, and was leaning into corners like Valentino Rossi and ducking and weaving in and out of traffic like a manic Frogger hopped-up (thanks very much) on methamphetamines.

It’s the sitting position that I have the most trouble with; its sole purpose seems to me to make the rider appear that they’re in the process of taking a high-speed shit. Want to know what it’s like to sit on a scooter? Easy, just go to your bathroom and sit on your toilet. If you’re a bloke, make sure to lop your testes off with some hedge trimmers to truly understand the sensation of having removed any trace of your own masculinity.

There are only three times when it’s acceptable to ride a motor scooter.

1)      If you’re on holiday in a gaudy subtropical tourist destination that Jetstar flies regularly to and are allowed to ride one by the safety-conscious rental agent (not) after paying them the AUD equivalent of $10 with nothing but a pair of shorts, a singlet, some thongs and an old grid-iron helmet with a busted strap for protection. You mitigate the ludicrous riding position by ensuring that most of your motoring is undertaken standing up, like you’re riding an undersized BMX bike. You also must only ride it drunk and refer to it as ‘your steed’.

2)      If you’re a mod, a PROPER mod, and you’ve just ridden back from beating the living fuck out of some rockers at a brawl in a seaside resort town.

“Objects in the mirror may appear EVERYWHERE.”

3)      If you’re a pizza delivery man (I can’t rightly criticize those dudes when they deliver glorious food to my door at all hours of the night. If Jesus were still alive (and/or existed) he’d call that a fucking miracle. Sure, he might’ve gotten a bit of notoriety for turning water into wine, but he wasn’t able to tell people what stage of the cooking process their pizza was at on a mobile phone and have a man drop it off in a box that keeps it hot the whole way to your house. That shit is crazy!

The next time you see someone riding a scooter when you’re on the way to work, give them the finger.

They’ll know why…

/end communication