Going Postal
10th December 2008, 13:11
This Saturday just been, I was going for a quiet ride along some even quieter town roads. Not even breaking 60kph, as I'm still breaking in my engine. When, lo and behold, I saw a dog sitting in the middle of the road. Literally on the white lines. Ah! I think to myself, I've read about this in the road code, so I know exactly what to do!
So as I approached the rather mangy looking dog, I slowed right up and all that jazz, unfortunately the car approaching in the opposite direction decided that slowing down too much was an inconvenience, so decided to give her horn a big blast, and just as I was about half a meter away from the animal, of course, being scared witless, the dog tries to make a hasty retreat, right across my path. So what did I do? I grabbed a handful of front brakes so I didn't squash the bloody thing, but had to let go pretty smartly because I felt/heard the front wheel chirp, and ended up running over its tail.
And over the high pitched yelping, and my own furiously beating heart, I looked right into the eyes of the female motorist in question, and she decided to take the opportunity to tell me she thinks I am a . . . . . Fucking Wanker. Heard it clear as day, and I was so stunned at her ignorance I couldn't even flip the bird as I passed.
Apparently me, the big bad biker, with roughly 200ks riding experience in my life, was entirely responsible for the dog running in my path and getting a squashed tail.
What the?
So as I approached the rather mangy looking dog, I slowed right up and all that jazz, unfortunately the car approaching in the opposite direction decided that slowing down too much was an inconvenience, so decided to give her horn a big blast, and just as I was about half a meter away from the animal, of course, being scared witless, the dog tries to make a hasty retreat, right across my path. So what did I do? I grabbed a handful of front brakes so I didn't squash the bloody thing, but had to let go pretty smartly because I felt/heard the front wheel chirp, and ended up running over its tail.
And over the high pitched yelping, and my own furiously beating heart, I looked right into the eyes of the female motorist in question, and she decided to take the opportunity to tell me she thinks I am a . . . . . Fucking Wanker. Heard it clear as day, and I was so stunned at her ignorance I couldn't even flip the bird as I passed.
Apparently me, the big bad biker, with roughly 200ks riding experience in my life, was entirely responsible for the dog running in my path and getting a squashed tail.
What the?