Although the title is accurate, I’m gonna go ahead and tell on myself.
When I was a brand new Motor, I stopped a random guy for a random violation. Who he was and what he did are not pertinent to the story. I am always bitching about the idiocy I face on a daily basis. On this particular day, I was the idiot.
Take a minute to recover. It’s okay. I found it surprising, too.
Fast forward to the end of the stop. The driver was a very nice guy, but I still cited him. Not terribly surprising. He was so nice, in fact, that as he parked in front of his buddy’s house and got out, he turned back and waved to me. In the middle of my U-turn. Which caused me to wave back. In the middle of my U-turn.
As the left side of the bike ever so gently came to rest on the pavement, I thought to myself, “Now just what in the fuck are you doing, dumbass? You’d think with all your riding experience, you’d realize that maybe taking your hand off the fucking handlebar mid U-turn isn’t the grandest of plans.” True as that may be, it didn’t stop me. I mean, the nice man waved to me. It’d be rude to ignore it, right? Yeah! Didn’t stop the bike from hitting the pavement, but what was I to do?
Anyway, the nice man came running over to help me lift the bike back up. Of course, he asked me if I was okay. I’m sure I was about 15 different shades of embarrassed, but I told him I was just fine. I also asked him to get his copy of the ticket for me. He looked at me quizzically and handed it to me. At which point I ripped that bitch up into tiny, tiny, little shreds and thanked him for helping me. We also swore a blood oath never to speak of it again.
Until now, apparently. Now I have to excuse myself and research what the hell a blood oath is and how deep in shit I now am. You’ll pardon me…