Motorcycles, topless guys, and Brian's jacket found!

After work last night, I was a busy gal. I drove around my neighbourhood, running errands and picking up items for the wedding; I finished my relay with a trip to the gym, where I forced myself (despite being utterly disinterested today) to work up a serious sweat on the elliptical, followed by calisthenics ‘til my abs gave out. I drove home to an empty house, as Brian was working late—perfect. I made myself a giant veggie burger and some sautéed vegetables, put Anchor Man in my DVD player, and prepared to gather my sewing materials to work on my wedding dress. I got half-way through my burger before I felt pretty full, and I considered putting the other half in the fridge for later when I would be hungry again. But then the little voice inside my head reminded me that I’d been hungry all afternoon…that I wanted to finish my burger just for the tastiness of it…that I had nowhere to go, so I might as well stuff myself (albeit, with pretty healthy food) to the point of guilty-pleasure-discomfort. I complied, mowing down the burger in four giant bites, content with my distended belly, my gym-sweat hair, and my evening plans.

Then I checked Twitter. And there was a message. From HarleyDavidson Ottawa. Inviting me to last night’s big fundraiser, Precious Metal. “Oh, em, gee,” I said aloud. I had heard about Precious Metal, and had really wanted to go, but with 74 days ‘til the wedding, I just felt way too busy. Yet here I was, with an open invite to stop by the gala, on the house, and chat with Ottawa Harley about Brian’s jacket search. Hmmmmm.

First, I tweeted back that I had only just gotten the invite now, and it seemed too late. Then I tweeted that I would stop by. Then I waited to see if Harley would tweet back, maybe to tell me I shouldn’t come…but no such tweet occurred. A little reluctantly, I went and put on a little black dress, and ran my hot iron over my hair. I argued with myself that while, yes, this type of event wasn’t my usual thing (loud music, bar scene), and while I wouldn’t know anyone, nor would I be able to hear anyone because I never can in a bar, it did involve motorcycles and it may actually be fun, even flying solo.

Well, fun would be understating it! The event took place at a lounge called My Condo on Clarence Street in the market, a cozy little club with a good atmosphere. I knew I’d found the place when I saw the half-dozen Harleys lined up outside—one in our wedding green, which I took as a good sign. Inside, there was a station to get your photo taken on the back of a Harley, a spot to get your hair made over with a stripe of pink added in, a couple different makeup stations, and cupcakes from a new shop, The Cupcake Lounge, that just opened in the market. A guy was teaching girls on the dance floor how to stand up a fallen motorcycle (something I really want to learn how to do but not in a skirt and heels, thanks), while a silent auction took place and women tried on pink Harley gear upstairs. The entire event was put on to raise money for the Ottawa Regional Cancer Foundation.

I asked the bartender to make me up something virgin and pretty so I wouldn’t feel empty-handed, and made a tour of the stations. I explored the clothing, got my hair made huge and wavy with a pink streak added in, and got my photo taken with two topless fellas while I straddled a big hog. In a moment of unusual bravery, I introduced myself to some strangers and made quick friends with them, chatting with them throughout the evening. I managed to find out who mans the Twitter feed at twitter.com/#FreedomHDOttawa …we chatted briefly before she had to take care of some stuff around the event, with a promise to reconnect later. I bided my time, because I was, naturally, very curious about her interest in Brian’s motorcycle jacket search.

I forget sometimes that not everyone reading the blog has been reading since day one, so let me quickly get you up to speed: motorcycles are what brought Brian and I together. Bri and I were friendly for about a year before he got Sookie—his little Honda Magna that he reconstructed from broken parts by hand—but we became real, fast friends when Brian got his bike. Actually, that’s not accurate: when Brian first got his bike, I wasn’t interested in the slightest. My dad had put a serious fear of bikes into my head, and I had no intention of ever getting on one. Brian pleaded with me for weeks to take a ride, and I just laughed. He told me he’d bought a helmet just to get me on the bike, lying and telling me he’d gotten it on sale for thirty bucks at Canadian Tire so I wouldn’t feel badly if I really didn’t want to go. I still said no. He finally got me to try it when he threatened to take a different girl out, wearing “my” helmet. My pride was piqued, I told him to be at my house at five, and I was standing on my doorstep, trembling, when he showed up.

He explained the rules of being a bike passenger, got me strapped into my helmet, and promised to take me just around the block. I remember hanging onto him with all my strength, convinced that my pride was going to get me killed. Three minutes later, we stopped at Starbucks and Brian pried me off of him and took me inside to get a drink. As we stood in line, me still in shock, I turned to him abruptly. I grabbed his jacket in two shaking fists and said, “I know you want a coffee right now, and I know we just got off the bike, but I really want to go again.” Brian obliged me, and we were on Sookie non-stop for the rest of that summer. It was our chance to spend real quality time together, our last chance to hang out before he moved away in September to Calgary—a story for another time, but the end result is, I rescued him three months later and brought him home…and in exchange for that, he bought me my cowboy boots, which I love to ride in and which I’ll wear down the aisle.

Brian had wanted to paint Sookie; I obliged by surprising him.

So this, readers, is why Brian is going to wear a motorcycle jacket down the aisle instead of a regular suit. Between Sookie and Calgary, Bri has always been my cowboy on a steel horse. And surprisingly, finding Brian a jacket has been one of the hardest parts of our wedding project. We knew we had to look second-hand, or hope for someone with a new one to offer it up; trouble is, Brian is larger than a lot of actual vintage jackets. We were ready to trade an old vintage coat of my own, but we just weren’t finding a jacket that fit and looked right. Brian is, if people haven’t caught on yet, very easy going, and a few weeks ago I was telling him how upset I was about the jacket search going badly…to which he replied, he didn’t care if he had to marry me in jeans and t-shirt. If you’ll recall, I informed Brian that if I started down that aisle and he was not wearing a leather jacket, I was going to turn right back around and not marry him. While I admit that this is a bluff, the emotional sentiment is genuine: I want to walk down that aisle and into the arms of my steel-horsed cowboy, waiting for me in proper attire. (To revisit the original blog entry where I melted down over the jacket, click here.)

Well, it looks like we’ll have that dream of a jacket realized!

Towards the end of the Precious Metal evening, I reconnected with Jennifer of the FreedomHDOttawa Twitter account, and she brought me to meet the manager. We chatted, and they offered Brian a jacket. We haven’t seen it yet, but we will post pictures as soon as we can! I was speechless, and in total shock, and I can’t imagine how that looked to the Harley ladies. I just couldn’t believe that this last non-negotiable ‘must have’ element of our wedding was coming together. With 74 days left, we were realizing our vision. I told the ladies that we were thrilled, and so appreciative, but that given the generosity of the offer, we’d like to help out with volunteer hours, art/design, or whatever else, for their next fundraising event. We shook on it, and a wonderful trade was approved by all.

Ladies of Harley Davidson Ottawa, I can’t thank you enough for a wonderful evening of fun, motorcycles, and cool women. I still have 74 days to sew the detailing onto my wedding dress, so I’m really glad I made the decision to roll my full belly out of the house, put on a dress, and come visit. I’m looking forward to the next Precious Metal, and I strongly suggest that all you lady readers out there join us for the next one!