
Originally Posted by
shrub
After the quake my bike was stuck in the red zone about 100m from the Grand Chancellor and surrounded by buildings being demolished. I had kind of said goodbye, and even though it's insured, I love that bike and to me a bike is not a "thing" in the way a fridge or car is.
One morning I got a phone call, the voice on the other end introduced himself as Constable X and then asked if I owned a black triumph motorcycle. I expected the worst and owned up to having superlative taste in motorbicycles.
"Your bike was parked in front of a building that was only held up by the two buildings on either side, but I have moved it to a safe place and I will try and get it out for you".
Long story short, Constable X is not a biker and had never ridden anything other than a scooter or a quad bike, but he saw that my bike was obviously a pride and joy. I got my key to him through my partner who was working for Civil Defence and he rode my bike out of the red zone and left it in the hands of a couple of young soldiers for me to collect. He could have got his arse kicked from here to Invercargill for riding a member of the public's bike with no helmet or license and for no valid reason, but he did it. When I asked if he'd like to come for dinner (he's from the North Island) or whether I could buy him some piss, "no mate, just happy to be able to help".
WHAT A FUCKING LEGEND!!!!!
Bookmarks