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I Think My Adult Scooter Is Having a Midlife Crisis. Please Help

adult scooter
I miss the old Jake.

By A Distraught Cabot Resident

It all began when I noticed its new pair of premium rubber Harley-Davidson tires and Guy Fieri flame decals, but now it’s actively redirecting me to Chameleon Tattoo & Body Piercing in the Garage. I might be crazy, but my I think my red Razor A6 is having a midlife crisis.

I really don’t know how to help. It wheels away from my dorm in Cabot every night for “a change of pace”—whatever that means. One night it came back with a full-handle ‘Eat Pray Love’ tattoo. I fear it’s slowly losing its identity. Before I make the four-minute ride to the Yard, it insists on doing donuts on the lawn first. And when I finally get it moving forward, we always have to stop at Hemenway for a few quick reps and a run on the treadmill. This is getting real old. And I guess my adult scooter is too.

What do I tell it? That it can’t go to Yard Fest because I need a designated driver back to the Quad? That it’s gonna regret quitting its job for a three-month backpacking trip across Asia when it runs out of money two weeks in? That dying its spokes six different colors instead of visiting its therapist is objectively NOT self-care?

So if you ever see a wide-wheeled red scooter trying to do parkour at the Science Center Plaza, please, let it know I miss the old Jake. It’s only a matter of time until he finds some young pretty college girl on her spring break in Miami and leaves me for good.

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