Guy pulls up to a stop sign (4 way) on a rice rocket. Car in front of him.
Guy pops his front brake so that his ass end comes up 50-70 degrees, then, slowly, the ass end of the bike comes back down to the pavement. The car in front goes through the intersection. The guy on the bike goes up to the stop sign.
I go through the intersection and look back at the motorcycle. He jacks his throttle and pops the clutch but misses, and the thing screams like a shot rabbit. He tries again and pops a wheelie which he holds as he goes down the street. I lose him in my sights.
Guy on the ricer was wearing a white tank top, mesh shorts, and flip-flops.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Observations from Behind the Handles of a Motorcycle
I'm driving the other day on a three-lane interstate in heavy traffic. I'm in the right hand lane and the traffic is approaching stop and go.
Now, traffic is moving, but it's pretty thick. Next thing I know some guy in a rice rocket sidles up to me on my right, in my lane. I had no idea where he came from, but now, all of a sudden, he's right next to me, on my right, in my lane, and he's bobbing back and forth like he's not sure if he can pass me or not. He's bopping in and out of my blind spot.
He eyes me and gives me this look like it was cool as shit what he was doing. I called him a douche bag and told him to get the fuck out of my lane--that he was a jack-off for doing such a thing in the first place. He gave me a what the fuck look, then looked like he might turn into me just to spite me, but then he backed off, opened up the throttle until the thing was whining like an insect, and tore off an exit ramp to the right.
As he blew away, I noticed he was wearing a Yankees jacket. Perfect.
Now, traffic is moving, but it's pretty thick. Next thing I know some guy in a rice rocket sidles up to me on my right, in my lane. I had no idea where he came from, but now, all of a sudden, he's right next to me, on my right, in my lane, and he's bobbing back and forth like he's not sure if he can pass me or not. He's bopping in and out of my blind spot.
He eyes me and gives me this look like it was cool as shit what he was doing. I called him a douche bag and told him to get the fuck out of my lane--that he was a jack-off for doing such a thing in the first place. He gave me a what the fuck look, then looked like he might turn into me just to spite me, but then he backed off, opened up the throttle until the thing was whining like an insect, and tore off an exit ramp to the right.
As he blew away, I noticed he was wearing a Yankees jacket. Perfect.
Observations from Behind the Handles of a Motorcycle
Many people have trouble being passed by a motorcycle. That is to say, many people are offended when a motorcycle approaches them to pass, even, say, when the motorcycle is passing properly--the rider to the left, the person being passed to the right. These people seem to increase their speed as the motorcycle closes, forcing the motorcycle to go even faster in order to overtake the vehicle. This sucks for the motorcycle driver; even under typical conditions, passing is always a sketchy evolution for the motorcycle driver, so being forced to race some insecure jerk-off adds to the equation.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)