I don't ride a motorcycle. There's just something comforting about being surrounded on all four sides by a shell of steel and glass that helps to protect me from the idiots that think they're driving on Charlotte's roads and sidewalks. So I couldn't tell you the difference between a chain drive and a set of straight pipes. But a friend needed a lift to the shop to pick up his own bike that was in for a routine maintenance.
While I was there, I took the time to wander the showroom and service area. Even armed with my thimble-sized knowledge of motorcycles, I could tell that this is a serious selection. Used and new, all shiny and sparkling. Many with prices hanging from the handlebars and a few with "SOLD" signs on them and a few with "please don't touch". Some of these machines weigh 600 or 700 pounds so if you do choose to sit on one and take it off the kickstand, be prepared.
The accessories section includes helmets (always a good idea to protect your brain, assuming you have one), gloves, boots, protective leathers and jackets and the like. Did you know that some states don't have helmet laws?
And if you decide while you're sitting on the motorcycle to make a "vroom vroom" sound and imagine you're Steve McQueen escaping from the POW camp, no one will look twice at you.