tkresler
.01% squid
I've been avoiding posting this for a week now, but since it's quite in my house my conscience is getting to me.
I went out to dinner last week with my team. Long dinner, bad service, eating with my manager, all things that don't bode well for the evening. Drank water while everyone else is getting tanked on $50 bottles of red wine, anyway.
Walk over to the motorcycle striped area where I parked the ST. It was empty when I parked at 5pm, but now that it's 10pm, it's chock full of beautiful custom Harleys. Most of these guys live in Naperville, a ritzy suburb of Chicago, and spend plenty of money on their toys. They all ride them to this bar and park em to show em off... whatever.
Get on the bike, get my gear on, put on my helmet, gloves, ready to go. Pull out, go exactly one turn of the front wheel, and down she goes on the right side. Turns out I had put the lock on the front rotor and in my hurry to go home, forgot all about it.
Guy runs across the street, picks up the bike. Pulled it back into the slot, pulled the lock off the rotor, and rode home. No damage except to the tip over wing and my pride... debating on not even replacing it (the wing, that is). My pride is wounded, but will heal
As I'm pulling the lock, a yuppie comes tearing out of the bar to look at me. Turns out it was his custom HD right next to me that I missed by less than a foot. Thank god... I can handle breaking my bike, but I'd die if I had knocked over his. I'm really glad that I missed him.
Now I'm in the market for one of those "pull pin" lanyards to hook onto the lock. I'm usually really good about remembering it, but I'd rather have the reminder.
Anyway, it's my first tot since I picked up the bike a few years back, so I'm sure I was due.
Tim
I went out to dinner last week with my team. Long dinner, bad service, eating with my manager, all things that don't bode well for the evening. Drank water while everyone else is getting tanked on $50 bottles of red wine, anyway.
Walk over to the motorcycle striped area where I parked the ST. It was empty when I parked at 5pm, but now that it's 10pm, it's chock full of beautiful custom Harleys. Most of these guys live in Naperville, a ritzy suburb of Chicago, and spend plenty of money on their toys. They all ride them to this bar and park em to show em off... whatever.
Get on the bike, get my gear on, put on my helmet, gloves, ready to go. Pull out, go exactly one turn of the front wheel, and down she goes on the right side. Turns out I had put the lock on the front rotor and in my hurry to go home, forgot all about it.
Guy runs across the street, picks up the bike. Pulled it back into the slot, pulled the lock off the rotor, and rode home. No damage except to the tip over wing and my pride... debating on not even replacing it (the wing, that is). My pride is wounded, but will heal
As I'm pulling the lock, a yuppie comes tearing out of the bar to look at me. Turns out it was his custom HD right next to me that I missed by less than a foot. Thank god... I can handle breaking my bike, but I'd die if I had knocked over his. I'm really glad that I missed him.
Now I'm in the market for one of those "pull pin" lanyards to hook onto the lock. I'm usually really good about remembering it, but I'd rather have the reminder.
Anyway, it's my first tot since I picked up the bike a few years back, so I'm sure I was due.
Tim
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