Little bedtime story, which came from my mate.
Pre- pre- fun. The dude is my IT guy. Sold him my wife's FXR about 2 month prior to it. He got the grip of riding fairly quickly and was happy with everything, until some Fktard made his life a bit more complicated.
In some parallel universe there were people from the moving company doing their job on the daily basis and guess what...... Moving people's stuff.
Pre- fun part: I was sitting in the third lane quite comfortably, until I got cut of by some elderly mental hospital patient. Thought that it was not safe any longer here i decided to get into forth lane and "Keep calm and carry the fk on". Slight acceleration from 90 to sort of 109 and I'm toggling along nicely again. Grandma that cut me off speeds up again and we travel parallel in 3rd and forth lane.
Fun: about 150 meter in front i notice the open deck truck getting on the mway from Northcote on-ramp. Within 20 seconds he moves from 1st to 4th lane, and drops the speed fairly quickly. What happens next got me completely puzzled. as soon as i get a bit closer to him, a big mutherf%^&&%& empty fridge box gets airborne from the trucks deck, lands vertically in my lane and opens up. In that split second that I had to get on the brakes as hard as possible i managed to drop a few km/h, but not a complete stop. Also, if anyone tells you that when they are about to die the entire life flashes in front of their eyes - pure and utter bullshit. "Fk my life" was the only thing that managed to cross my mind.
So as Katy Perry sings "I kissed the box", i literally just did. Then goes about 5 seconds of complete blindness, as the speed was not enough for me to penetrate straight through it and now I'm flat against it flying in absolute unknown direction. The hardest part of it is that for these 5 seconds I've tried to think of a decent explanation to my wife and kiddo why daddy is partially dismantled.
Then goes the hard contact with and asphalt, as the box got ripped apart after contacting with the ground and my entire right side get a decent amount of gravel under the skin. 30 second later im sitting on the same fkin piece of cardboard in the middle of lane 4 trying to roll up the cigarette, bud not getting much success as my fingers are covered in blood and its dripping on the tobacco and papers. First time in 3 years i regretted that i don't smoke tailies or roll in advance.
Then goes the ambulance the cops etc.
Side affects:
1- Remember that mental grandma in the car next to me. She was the first one to reach me and tell me off for misbehaving, because apparently she didn't cut me off, she was in that lane and I almost rear ended her.... No comments.
2- Trucky, who was behind me in the same lane, slammed on the breaks and stopped 2m short of turning my body into mince. Thank you. A lot.
3- I've learned that no matter what you smoke for breakfast you can not predict that on the day you will meet a box on the motorway.
4- New Zealand cops do know how to roll smokes.
5- FXR are fkin indestructible. Written off, however still fires up.
Story goes on with a few fun moments, but i have no time to finish this poem.
TL;DR- Kissed the box on the motorway, still alive.
Edit: Photo of the jacket added.
Bookmarks