"Tire tracks all across your back, I can see you've had your fun...."
OK, apologies to Jimi Hendrix for stealing that line.
Anyway, My Bestest Buddy is Steve. We've known each other for ..... 35 years maybe? Lots of the goofy shit I've ever been involved in had Steve in the picture somewhere. Steve and I rode motorcycles together constantly for years. We're both pretty good riders and we both always seemed to have pretty comparable bikes. So it was always good tight competition between us when we rode together. We were both a couple of squirrels and drove like idiots on a daily basis.
The one thing I never learned to do well was wheelie. But Steve could. He'd pull it up and keep it on the back wheel real well & real cool.
I was pumping gas at the local Texaco station one afternoon when here comes Steve on his Kawasaki 250. He whips around the corner and stands it up. Shifts into 2nd while up on the rear wheel. WooHoo!! Lookin' good.
Except Georges dog decided to cross the street at about the time Steve pulled around the corner! George lived across the street from the Texaco and his dog was a curly haired, little Bastard mix about knee high.
It was beautiful. Steve hit that dog and that Kawasaki pitched forward and sent Steve over the front and into the street rolling. The Dog hauled ass home and didn't look any worse for wear.
Steve ended up flat on his face spread eagle on the street. Ordinarily, that would have been funny enough but by a strange confluence of luck, physics and karma, Steve's bike was still upright and hadn't fallen over .......... yet. It did eventually fall over. But not till it had run over Steve first.
I was pumping gas into a pickup truck and the driver and I both went from wondering if he was hurt bad to laughing our asses off immediately. Could not help it. As luck would have it, Steve, the motorcycle and the Dog were all ok.
When I got to Steve he was still in the street, face down. And right across his white shirt was a big tire track from his own motorcycle! I'm sure that if Steve had been able to breath right then he'd have pounded me into the pavement for laughing like I was, but hell, How could I not?
He's the only guy I know who has been run over by his own motorcycle.
OK, apologies to Jimi Hendrix for stealing that line.
Anyway, My Bestest Buddy is Steve. We've known each other for ..... 35 years maybe? Lots of the goofy shit I've ever been involved in had Steve in the picture somewhere. Steve and I rode motorcycles together constantly for years. We're both pretty good riders and we both always seemed to have pretty comparable bikes. So it was always good tight competition between us when we rode together. We were both a couple of squirrels and drove like idiots on a daily basis.
The one thing I never learned to do well was wheelie. But Steve could. He'd pull it up and keep it on the back wheel real well & real cool.
I was pumping gas at the local Texaco station one afternoon when here comes Steve on his Kawasaki 250. He whips around the corner and stands it up. Shifts into 2nd while up on the rear wheel. WooHoo!! Lookin' good.
Except Georges dog decided to cross the street at about the time Steve pulled around the corner! George lived across the street from the Texaco and his dog was a curly haired, little Bastard mix about knee high.
It was beautiful. Steve hit that dog and that Kawasaki pitched forward and sent Steve over the front and into the street rolling. The Dog hauled ass home and didn't look any worse for wear.
Steve ended up flat on his face spread eagle on the street. Ordinarily, that would have been funny enough but by a strange confluence of luck, physics and karma, Steve's bike was still upright and hadn't fallen over .......... yet. It did eventually fall over. But not till it had run over Steve first.
I was pumping gas into a pickup truck and the driver and I both went from wondering if he was hurt bad to laughing our asses off immediately. Could not help it. As luck would have it, Steve, the motorcycle and the Dog were all ok.
When I got to Steve he was still in the street, face down. And right across his white shirt was a big tire track from his own motorcycle! I'm sure that if Steve had been able to breath right then he'd have pounded me into the pavement for laughing like I was, but hell, How could I not?
He's the only guy I know who has been run over by his own motorcycle.
posted by Grumpyunk at 12:17 PM
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