Mopeds and Firetrucks

The alpha and omega, long and short, yin and yang of street legal vehicles. Why I bring this up I'm really not sure. Well, yes I am, but let me first grab a beer.

La Fin Du Monde is whats on tap at this time. A Belgian style tripel from Unibroue. It translates to the end of the world, and hopefully it is not too far off. As things look it doesn't seem to be.

It all started on a sunny Saturday afternoon. A couple car loads of the unusual suspects headed down to Chatsworth park to pick up some acid. It was a very good batch. The high light of the night was when one of the slightly irregulars complaining of heart burn said he needed an antacid. Peels of laughter broke out and carried on for what seemed like hours. As I said, it was a good batch. So good in fact that the next day Gustavo and I decided that we wanted to trip again. Back to Chatsworth park. The trip out there must have been uneventful for I recall nothing of it. I suppose it was about six miles from Sepulveda to Charlies old stomping grounds. We got there, dropped the cid and headed home. It was just like a movie. Dumb and dumber to be more specific.

Our mode of transportation was a moped. apparently the moped wanted to be as dysfunctional as the two of us soon were to be. Every hundred yards or so it would die. I'd get off and Gus would pedal like a mad man trying to store up as much power as possible. I'd hop back on and we'd go another hundred yards. Eventually as Gus would pedal I would walk up the road so as not to have too much weight on it all the time. As Gus would come whizzing by at a whole ten mph I would attempt to jump on. Sometimes I was successful. Other times I had to run a few feet to catch up and try again. A half hour trip one way turned into a two and a half hour trip the other way.

Once back home Gus went to his apartment and I went to Jim and Gina's place where I had been crashing for a while. I just sat in the kitchen tripping, staring out the window. I could see the 405 and watched the traffic streaming, what seemed to be literally, by. Every now and then Jim and or Gina would look over and ask what was up. Mostly I just answered with the same smile that had been plastered across my face. There where a couple times when with a wide eyed stare I would just say "the building next door is on fire". At one point I even heard sirens. Not by mere coincidence so did the two non trippers. As I stood at the window now watching the commotion on the street I was asked what was happening. "Well the building next door has been on fire for the last 30 minutes and the firetrucks are now here." Hence, mopeds and firetrucks.