Some general scooter facts for you:
- If you're riding a 50 cc in Taiwan, you don't need a motorcycle license. You do, however, still need a license.
- To make left turns, you do so in two steps: you go straight, then stop in the little box on the right hand side of the road, turning so that you are effectively facing the correct direction.
- they produce a hell of a lot of pollution, but do not use a lot of gas.
- some are two stroke engines, some are four stroke, and if you have the first one, then you definitely have to add oil to your scooter or it won't go very far or fast.
- the amount of stuff you can carry on your scooter is limited only by your imagination and ability to balance. This can include a family of four, plus a dog balancing on people's shoulders. And no, that is not an exaggeration.
Kristen, demonstrating Scooter Fashion Techniques
So. I bought myself a scooter. It is a 1994, and it cost me, plus insurance, about 250$ total. I bought it, I drove it home, everything was wonderful, and I took it out to the bar for the first time a few days later for Halloween. Oh sure, all of the various guages were broken, and the fuel tank was set permanently on low, but it was all good, because it ran (albeit loudly) and was easy enough to drive.
And then, at the bar, at two in the morning, it would not start. I tried kicking the little engine lever, and cooing, and promising many many presents of baths and expensive gasoline, and the little bastard just sort of coughed feebly at me. So we asked a random taiwanese man for assistance. He'd spent most of the night telling us how he lied to people for a living and was apparently some sort of really lame con artist. I kept a careful eye on my keys and purse.
He hummed a bit and fondled my poor, reluctant vehicle. He tried to kick start it. He wiggled various portions, and then finally declared somberly, "you have a fuel problem."
"Oh no!" I exclaimed, words like 'fuel line blockage' jumping through my head. I promptly began imagining how exactly one managed to fix such a thing, when he clarified.
"Yes," he said, pushing his glasses onto his nose, "you need more gas."
"Oh," I said, pushing my own glasses onto my nose (I was a librarian), "well then."
We did not get gasoline that night, as it was two in the morning, but instead headed home, angel wings and all, in two trips on poor Allie's scooter. The next day, Marvis took me to the gas station, where we filled up an empty water bottle with gas, and then gave it to my poor scooter. It gulped down the green liquid (don't ask me why it was green, but it was) and with a hiccuping shudder and a litle encouragement from myself, Marvis, and a random Taiwanese waitress at the bar, purred back to life.
The summary of my various guages
At this point, I gave my scooter its name: Lim-lim, short for "Lim lo key" which means "chug it" in Taiwanese.
I thought my scooter troubles were over. Two weeks later, it decided not to start again, so we walked it to the mechanics with a note in Chinese from one of my students. They poked and prodded at it, and much to my embarrassment, got it to start. And I drove it home, and the next day? It wouldn't start again.
So yesterday, Marvis fetched a mechanic from the original store. He followed us home and got out his screwdriver. He hemmed and hawed, poked and prodded, and eventually declared that there was something stuck inside my scooter. The possibility that it was a tiny mythical creature was not directly mentioned, but I felt, in my Dane-Cook-infested mind, that it was implied.
He told me it would be too dangerous to fix at night and on the street, so he came back a little later with a friend, who climbed onto my scooter and pulled it into the street. The mechanic turned on his own scooter, and then, with one of his feet behind my Lim-Lim, started pushing my scooter to the store.
Two hours later, they called Marvis. The problem was, my scooter had a broken heart and needed a new one and some new veins. I'm sure there were probably more technical names than that, but that was the gist of it. So Lim-Lim got a heart transplant, and all for under 20 bucks.
Now, Lim-Lim works. Sort of. Most of the time. She gets cold feet about the whole thing, but if I kick her up on her scooter stand and kick-start her engine, she usually goes alone with it. But I have to let her warm up before I give her gas... and then I have to give her gas the whole time I'm driving, even when stopped at lights, or she'll give up the ghost like a pouty two-year-old who wants the candy you've refused.
And that is the Epic Fail (well, mostly) of my scooter.
