The weekend before the big day (which was to fall on Tuesday this year), I snuck out of the house with my husbands pickup to pick it up. The nice employees at the dealer helped me load the scooter in the back of the Honderosa and strap it down for the one hour drive home. Having never hauled anything this large or this expensive in my entire life, I cautiously ventured out on to the interstate. I kept one eye on the scooter (and the other eye on the scooter!) as I endured underpasses and the rattling the Honderosa was making scaring me half to death. Just as I got to the edge of town, it dawned on me. The large VIP writing on the front of the scooter is the PRECISE reason I spent an extra $50 to get the limited edition version. This was not the moped I purchased!
I turned my big rig around (which was kind of a large production in and of itself) and headed back to the dealer. Upon arriving, I found two nice ladies that had arrived to pick up the VIP scooter I had in the back of my vehicle. Strangely enough, they were from Jackson’s hometown and would be cruising through the big OC on their way home. They had agreed to stop in OC and exchange the scooters. They had called the house (understanding the covert mission I was on) and politely asked for Jackson’s cell phone number. They had contacted him and made the plan. Then I showed back up.
The employees at the dealership apologized profusely and helped me unload the wrong scooter out of my backend (well, not technically MY backend, but you understand). We loaded the new one up and I was off again. On my way out, I rolled down my window to wish the other two gals good luck. One of the ladies commented on the 50c written on the side of the scooter I now had loaded in my truck. She said the reason they had bought the VIP version was because Iowa law stated these motorized vehicles could NOT be more than 49cc or they qualified as a motorcycle and our 14 year-olds would not be able to drive it.
Holy crap! What was to be a quick grab and run was turning in to a venture I was NOT enjoying.
I questioned the employee that was still busy helping her load her scooter into her trailer. He assured me that the bike I had loaded met the Iowa laws. He seemed confident, so I drove off. As I drove down the freeway I realized I hadn’t grabbed the key out of the ignition. I took the next exit and grabbed both the keys and the owner’s manual. I feverishly thumbed through the book looking for any indication that the moped I was about to present my daughter on her big day was legally what she needed. I found nothing. So once I again, I headed back to the dealer.
I’m sure they rolled their eyes and thought, “This lady is NEVER going to leave us alone!”. I found the gentleman that I had purchased the scooter from one month earlier. He assured me that the scooter was 49cc. He pointed out the place in the owner’s manual that stated the size of the motor or whatever. He could have been feeding me a line of crap, I wouldn’t have known the difference. Oh, how I wished Jackson could have gotten out of work that day and come with me. He would have understood all this boy stuff. In the end the 50c written on the side of the machine was simply part of the model number. I’m sure this guy thought I was a complete idiot.
I’m happy to report that the scooter we gave our oldest daughter a scooter was exactly what she needed. I just pray that it last long enough for her two sisters to enjoy. We haven’t seen her since!
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