How Does A Glass of Milk Turn Into A Motorcycle Ride?

Here I was the other day sitting in the living room thinking of my motorcycle and going for a motorcycle ride, while my favorite show “Full Throttle”. Then this screeching voice out of the kitchen catches my attention. Yep the lady of the house is upset, we are out of milk and some how that is my fault. It doesn’t get any better either, as I sip on the full glass of milk that is sitting in front of me I hear how she needs milk to complete dinner…a dinner I secretly hope never comes to completion.

Suddenly she appears out of the kitchen. She tells me that she was positive there was milk just 20 minutes ago. I stand up and try to slowly move my body between her and my glass of milk, that I was at one time enjoying. Just as I am about to make that final move to cover up the milk she spots the glass. Suddenly I feel like I have a committed a crime so bad that I now feel like I should be on the cover of the New York Times. She grabs my keys, and with a cold as ice stare she demands “Go Get Milk!”

I down my milk, grab my old helmet and jacket and head down to the motorcycle. Looks like a motorcycle ride to the store! She stands at the door way to remind me the corner store is just down the road. I start up the bike, and off I go to the store. Suddenly I realize, I don’t really like the guy who runs the corner store just down the road and somehow I ride right past the store and find the local Harley-Davidson dealership. I sit around have a coffee, take a look at the new motorcycles and think a little bit more about how great of a day it is outside…a day I should be riding.

Thirty minutes into my visit at Harley, I decide to check out the constant buzzing in my pocket. The wife is phoning, in fact she has been phoning for 20 minutes. “Where are you?” she asks.

I calmly state “At Harley”

Her voice raises a little bit “They don’t sell milk, get to a store that sells milk and get milk! Supper is going to be ruined!

I get a little smirk on my face, assuring her I will get milk at the next store I find. Then I will head back home. With that, I throw my new Harley-Davidson helmet on, jump on the bike, and accidently turn the wrong way. I discover an open highway in front of me and decide to carry on in this direction until I find a store that has milk, deep down knowing all along that there is no stores for a long way in this direction. I am probably on a longer motorcycle ride than what I was supposed to be on.

Eventually I find a store, some 45 minutes later, but I look around the store and think to myself “Is this the kind of business I want to support?” The answer originally is yes, but I work hard to convince myself that just maybe the store owner is a relative of someone that owns a t-shirt factory and uses child labor. So off I go to the next town, completely ignoring that buzzing feeling in my pocket.

Once arriving in the next town, I do find milk at the gas station while filling my motorcycle back up. I purchase the milk, and think to myself “another chore well completed”. I climb back on my motorcycle and start the 2 1/2 hour journey back home.

Arriving home just after dark, there is no lights on accept the bedroom light. I flick the light on and announce “I got the milk”, silence follows. I wander down the hallway to the bedroom, only to discover the door is locked. Quietly I ask “are you ok?” still silence. I head back towards the kitchen, where sitting on the table is what appears to be supper for me…accept it is in the dogs dish. I wander back down the hallway again, then it strikes me…maybe she is mad I didn’t take her with me.