"Two motorcycles with a little house in the middle?"

I Think You Should Leave (2019)

I love I Think You Should Leave. There are few people able to commit to pure, chaotic silliness like Tim Robinson. The Michigander’s loud, brash comedic style has become its own brand, featured heavily in his new movie Friendship (which I also loved). So, in honor of his new movie, I’m reviewing my favorite Tim Robinson joke from I Think You Should Leave:

“What the heck? Two motorcycles with a little house in the middle? Wow dude!”

What I love most about this is that it’s such a simple character joke — taking a character’s weird perspective and watching them apply it to different external stimuli. It just turns out that in this case the perspective is that of a motorcycle alien who has come to Earth to investigate whether or not it has motorcycles. This character only sees things through the lens of motorcycles, so of course to him a car is “two motorcycles with a little house in the middle.” It’s so brilliantly dumb, and it’s something I think about maybe once a week.

I may not ride a motorcycle, but I ride my bike on my neighborhood bike path a few times a week. In fact, I ride on the exact bike path featured in the sketch. That’s right, I Think You Should Leave filmed in my neighborhood.

My neighborhood bike path was built on a former electric rail line, and it’s one of the few places in this city that don’t make me fear for my life while riding. Riding the path also gives me a sense of connection to my neighborhood. Here car-reliant Angelenos become pedestrians, coming together for fresh air, exercise, and a place for their dogs to poop. I’ve seen chalk artists, amateur astronomers, and full comedy shows on the side of that bike path. I’ve slammed on my brakes for kids on scooters with no sense of spatial awareness. I’ve wondered why one segment always smells like a bakery and another always smells like a campfire. I’ve marveled at the houses along the path that go all out on Halloween and Christmas because they know how many people walk by each day.

I’ve had my bike stolen two separate times since moving to Los Angeles. But I’m guarding bike #3 with my life, because this evening ritual is too important. The path is busiest around sunset, and I love joining — for 45 minutes — this narrow, 3-mile stretch of community, watching pinks and reds streak the sky and feeling the temperature slowly drop.

As Tim Robinson says, “Motorcycle no motor? Okay!”

Here’s another joke for the road.