When we came out, there was a white van parked next to our bikes, and as we approached the driver jumped out to ask questions about my little Rebel; he seemed incredibly excited, it was apparently the perfect bike for the Harley owner to step down to from his Sportster (which was in the shop for the 3rd time in a many weeks...) He was so taken with it, I did as I've done with other excited people: I let him sit on it.
I thought nothing of this--other than I must have a pretty cool ride--until I talked to Murf.
Murf: Guys don't do that.
Me: Sit on each others' bikes?
Murf: Best way I've hear it put is that asking a guy to ride his bike is like asking him to ride his wife. It just isn't done.
Me: I don't have a wife. And besides, all he did was sit on it.
Murf: You don't ask a guy to sit on his wife, either.
Me: But if he offered to let you sit on her...?
Murf: [quiet for a long time] What part would I be sitting on?