Hoping to shave a couple of minutes off my ten minute commute home tonight, I took a turn onto a road I’d never been on before. It took me through a rough looking industrial area that dumped right back out on the road I usually take home. Though I didn’t cut any time, I did have a thought provoking chance encounter. At the stop light, my car came to rest next to a guy sitting on a classic Harley Davidson in the turning lane. An average height, sun-roughed man; his greying goatee and long hair trademarks of my image of a “Harley Man.” And exactly the kind of guy that twenty years ago I was likely to have ended up marrying, or at the very least …. The bike–a thing of beauty, was definitely a fxb sturgis from the early 80’s with studded leather saddle and saddle bags. It looked carefully restored with shiny black paint and red trim. Dressed head to toe in leather, the rider wore a vintage-style classic leather helmet, sun glasses and smile. As I sat there admiring the bike and its rider, all the tension from what has felt like the longest week in recent history escaped. And I just knew that if at that moment he had turned to me with a nod towards the bitch seat and said “hop on,” I would have. But its only Wednesday after all and as the lights turned green, we both drove off in our separate ways. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow.