That summer Joan and Sandy had one goal. To find a boyfriend with a bike. A motorcycle. They wanted to be seen, wearing halter tops and cut-off shorts, on the back of a bike, clutching a handsome guy wearing black leathers. And they decided it had to be a Kawasaki. For some reason that was the bike that held cachet for them. Unfortunately, their search for the perfect summer accessory came to no avail. None of the guys they met who owned bikes matched up to the physical qualifications they had in mind. They tended to be smelly, too.
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