03/24/2004 Entry: "Zen and the Art of Being Married to a Motorcyclist"
So after weeks of ordering, waiting, following up, making appointments, and signing papers, Hubby finally has his Yamaha R6, armored jacket, riding gloves, riding shoes, special order helmet, insurance policy, and life insurance policy. Augh. *bites nails* I keep telling myself that he promised to be careful and a defensive rider and all of that, plus you never know when it's your time to go and blah blah blah, but I can't help but visualize his feet snapping off at the ankles or his hands being turned into hamburger meat with splinters of bone sticking out every which way or his face being shaved off by a guardrail or the CHiPs having to pick up his internal organs and put them in baggies to be sorted out later by the morgue technicians...
I need to stop watching CSI.
On another note, hardly a day goes by that I don't get irritated at a motorcyclist. Either my eardrums will be shattered as a hog blasts by my open window, or a motorcycle will go zipping past the eighteen people in line at a signal in order to take the first spot in line, or just something will happen to make me want to stick my head out the window and shout personal abuse. Hubby tried to defend those line-jumping motorcyclists by telling me that motorcycles were smaller and more maneuverable and were allowed by law to pass stopped or very slow cars.
"I know that motorcycles CAN. I just don't think they SHOULD. People who cut in line, just because they can...you know what they're called?"
One of these days I'm just going to snap and start screaming at a motorcyclist. That motorcyclist is going to glance back at me from the stolen front spot in line and then slowly back up to where I am and peer down through my open car window for a moment before flipping up his visor and saying, "Hey, honey. What's for dinner tonight?"
Replies: 6 comments
"Hey, honey. What's for dinner tonight?"
Lol. At least he didn't wait until he was in his 50s to want a bike. How's the baby?
Aah... the old "motorcyclist-thinks-it's-alright-to-pass-by-half-a-mile-of-stationary-traffic" trick. The many times I've wanted to just happen to open the door to my car as they approach... I just get bitter that I have to sit at the lights for a small eternity whilst they idly pass by. Grrr >.<;;
Motorbikes are fun though. I had the pleasure of being passenger on my friend's boyfriend's bike. It was a yamaha something or other. Good, good fun ^___^ though I doubt I could drive one myself O.o They're so heavy.
dont feel bad. at least he didnt' get an R1. R6's are for girls.
Ooh, thats what it was... A Yamaha R1! Very fast, very scary, very exciting ^_~
No! Don't stop watching CSI! 'Tis good, although it warps the mind a bit...
*hee* I want a motorbike...
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