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Ridin' Cupcake

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Smith is a seventh-generation Texan and a guy's guy. He races motorcycles -- speedbikes, really -- at 170 miles per hour. "It's a habit worse than drugs, man," he says. He admits that when he saw a bunch of pastel Vespas at a motorcycle show several years ago, "Well, I thought they were the silliest things I'd ever seen." But when he left his job two years ago and was looking for a new gig, the scooters struck him. "They made sense," he says. "Gas prices were going up, and everyone was driving Hummers in the Inner Loop." So he opened his own store, ScooterSmith. In the first three months, he sold all of two bikes, but the oil crisis became his savior; now he sells an average of one a day to "young, old, gay, straight, males and females," he says. Smith has gone from scooter hater to spokesman. "The first time I ever rode one, I was on vacation," he says. "And that's what it feels like when you get on. The breeze, the speed, it's the closest you get to floating on the road."

Smith says his most fervent customers are women. "It's because they're really, really cute," says Myrna, who bartends at Rudyard's. Myrna's pink Vespa with adjoining sidecar attracts "more attention than if she drove around naked," says Smith. And Myrna loves the attention. "I get stopped on the street, I get flagged down, honked at. I've had cops pull me over just to talk about my scooter. People come into Rudyard's all the time to ask me about my scooter."

On the way to Rudyard's, I'm Scott Miller's cupcake (Kung Fu Pimp's scooter is out of commission). We're here for the costume contest awards ceremony. Miller could best be described as a yuppie -- he co-owns the wine bar Corkscrew and drives a rare Aprilia scooter. Another guy's guy, Scott has no insecurities riding around with another guy. "Look, my scooter is baby blue and white. The fact that I'm on a scooter, I think I'm secure." As we zip down Waugh, people wave and honk. A motorcycle rider does a low wave. The breeze makes it feel like we're flying. We reach Rudyard's, where Osama has won first prize. After the contest, Battalion folks are milling around. Some are tipsy, some are tired, some are just getting started. Scott and the crew are ready to hit another bar. "You wanna hop on?" he asks.

"You bet," I answer. What better way to wash down a cupcake than with some booze?

The Scooter Scene

Comedian Eddie Izzard summed up the scooter experience perfectly: "It just -- nrrrrrrrrr -- cause you're on a fucking hairdryer, for God's s -- nrrrrrrrrr -- there's dogs walking faster than you -- nrrrrrrrrr! It's just pretty damn cool for me." Izzard, who also noted that "most Italian people are always on scooters going, 'Ciao...!'" gets that scooters have an image and a lifestyle attached. Stephen Smith figures there are three main scooter types -- and three types of people who ride them.

• Vintage Vespa, Lambretta or Stella

Looks like: The classic Italian scooters, which could have been plucked straight out of Roman Holiday. This is the kind of bike Izzard was talking about.

Who rides it: Mod, Ben Sherman-wearing hipster types with piercings and dyed hair. The scooter will be fixed up, but not too much -- as that would kill the indie cred.

• New Vespa, Lambretta or Stella

Looks like: A sleek, clean version of the classic Italian scooters, which would be at home on the cover of Vogue or even Paper City.

Who rides it: Yuppies and moneyed folks, who can spend $4,500 on an "accessory" vehicle and also look like they should be on the cover of Vogue or Paper City.

• The Asian scooter

Looks like: A generic, "racy-looking, wannabe crotch-rocket," according to Smith. No-nonsense, no expensive parts, no hip hairdo required.

Who rides it: "Waiters, students and budget-minded people who ride them every day for work, not just on the weekends for fun."

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