I teach software classes for the continuing education arm of a local university, and occasionally have to teach a class on Saturday. The dress code is business casual, which I’m fairly sure doesn’t include grungy t-shirts and motorcycle boots. It’s a 60 mile round trip, gas prices are going up, and yesterday the lure of dry, sunny weather was too much. So I shoved dress shoes and a wrinkle-resistant shirt (yay TravelSmith) in one saddlebag, and my lunch in the other. I figured my black jeans would pass muster.
Traffic was light, and the cool morning air was invigorating. The ride put me in a good mood for class. I wondered if I had scandalized the lady working the front desk, but it turned out that she is interested in learning to ride. I changed my clothes and subdued my helmet hair, and the students no doubt thought I was a perfectly nice lady-type person. No hint of the hooligan.
Usually the ride home from school is tiring, with stop-&-go traffic on the 4-lane highway, and it seems longer going home than going in for some reason. But yesterday it was enjoyable, and over too quickly. Funny, that.