My daughter gets wiser every day, (selling off her cast iron skillets notwithstanding). She told all of her friends, who told their friends that my Harley was for sale. The news reached one enthusiastic potential buyer. I emailed photos, and through the grapevine we heard the woman was smitten. She loved the bike and was fired up at the idea of her own Harley Davidson. She could see herself on the open road, feel the wind in her hair, already warming herself in the admiration of all lesser humans who do not ride the famous Milwaukee Iron. She had contracted Harley Fever.
Then came the instantaneous and cruel cure: "I have to ask my husband."
My daughter called Friday with the news that there has been no further communication from the wannabe Harley owner. My daughter said "It's ridiculous a woman has to ASK permission from her husband for anything." She was disappointed for me because she thought the woman was a solid sell.
It made me laugh. It goes without saying that if you have to get permission, you are not going to be riding your own Harley Davidson motorcycle, whether you are the husband or the wife asking.