How come no one believes me? They chuckle and tell me I’m not. I, however, choose to have faith in the fact that I am. “What?” you ask. I have joined the lofty circles of the Biker Babe.
“Cool,” you say. “How’d you get to be that?”
This past March my hubby purchased a Harley Davidson trike. He’s been riding all over the countryside with his buddies and having a wonderful time. I get to have the house to myself and not cook supper. So it’s great for both of us.
The problem comes when I tell people I’m a Biker Babe. I have a helmet and have ridden with him a few of times. We still need to get the suspension adjusted so I don’t end up at the chiropractor after each ride.
When I say I’m a Biker Babe they laugh and say I’m a Biker Mama. I contend I’m not. I’m a Biker Babe. If my hubby who is nearly 61, over weight and a grandfather can be a Biker the same as a svelte 21 year old there is no reason I can’t be a Biker Babe.
Seems to me we, once again, have a double standard set for women where men only have one. No matter the age, physique or generations of descendants a man is a Biker. Therefore, in my humble opinion, the wife or girlfriend can be a Biker Babe. It shouldn’t matter that I’m 59, overweight and a grandmother.
Women of the world unite. We have a noble cause to bring forth. Let us set aside another of the double standards which have held us back for generations. NO more will we be silent. NO more will be settle for second best. NO more discrimination.
No more Biker Mama.
Biker Babes Forever!!!
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