My chopper

So my dad calls me today, and he says, "Kimberly, it's your father." Which is never good, because this phrase is usually followed closely by something that often sounds to me like "why have you done this retarded thing that I am now going to have to deal with?"

This time, that phrase translated as, "Did you buy a motorcycle off of eBay?"

Which, of course, I did not. Because I have a very poor sense of balance, and have always believed that within five seconds of setting off on a motorcycle, I would tip over and the whole thing would burst into flames, and I would need to be encased in shiny black plastic, Vader-style.

"Of course I didn't, Dad. Why would you even ask me such a thing?"

Because, apparently, I did buy a motorcycle off of eBay-- or, rather, someone pretending to be me, and yet having absolutely no idea what I am like in real life, bought a motorcycle off of eBay. In fact, they bought the exact motorcycle pictured above, for around $4,700. And now the man who owned the motorcycle was calling my parents' house to collect his payment.

So of course, being the strong winner that I am, I began to cry, imagining a scenario in which I would be forced to actually pay for and pick up the motorcycle, which was in Alabama, and ride it back to Ohio. Oh, I may have met some colorful scamps along the way during this adventure, but it didn't really matter, since it could only end with me catching fire.

Fortunately, the man from whom I had apparently bought the motorcycle was very nice and let me off the hook; I cancelled both my eBay accounts, to prevent further fraudulent purchases of a ridiculous nature (note to whoever pretended to be me-- next time, to add a touch of reality to your cyber-crime, bid on Nixon memoribilia or Harry Potter posters). I'm also going to file a police report, at my parents' request; thankfully, you can do this via mail, so I don't have to call the actual police station and say "Excuse me, but I need to report that someone pretending to be me tried to buy a Kawasaki Viper."

When I told Ben about all this, he commented sadly, "Dang. I actually really would like a motorcycle."