Death By Taco (and truck)

I was driving to the office the other day on I90, letting my mind drift from thoughts of work to contemplative analysis of what am I doing with my life when it was rudely interrupted by a brief encounter with death. A Taco Truck merged three lanes of traffic causing me to veer off the road, nearly missing a road construction sign that was held up by a ten ton street sweepeing truck. Thankful to “cat-like speed and reflexes” I managed to skirt the taco-packing truck but not before making a sound like this:

Well, I thought I needed to share that because if I were to buy the farm via tacos, truck or a street sweeper, I would want you to know that I went out in the style I choose; something to keep the obituary lighthearted.

taken with a shakey hand and exposed middle finger
taken with a shakey hand and exposed middle finger

*Another “Where Did you Go” post is almost done and…and…Macabre Fitness is being resurrected. I am on the last couple of weeks before my first marathon in a few years. I need a new fitness forum to complain and bellyache.*

You Staring At My Scooter?

When you say the word “scooter” I twitch. I can’t explain why but I do. It’s not that I look down on those who ride them, in fact I commend there little effort to limit emissions and our dependency on oil. I even admire the way they completely sacrifice the dignity as a fellow motorist. I have driven one but it was in another country, far from any friends who could ridicule me for driving above 35 mph with a horn that sounds like Fran Drescher climaxing. What I am really saying is that it is hard to take a vehicle seriously that can be chained to a tree when parked.

So I was in traffic this morning and to my right was a Hell’s Angle on a scooter, patiently waiting for the light to change. I sat there staring at him, a little impressed by his bravado to not only battle traffic on what really is just a heavy bicycle, but to expose himself to the frigid climate as well. What drives a guy to strap on a helmet, gloves and parka, mount a Yamaha with a guvnor and take off to work? He must feel like a guppy in a stream of migrating salmon.

(sorry for the picture quality) But upon closer inspection of this cyclist, I noticed something that led me to a summary of what drives this dude. He thinks he is the shit on his thunder bike. He looks in the mirror no less than 20 times, trying to decide what looks better; visor up or visor down. Every place he goes he carries his helmet wishing it was socially acceptable to just wear it all the time. And after a tough day at the office he cruises to the local bar, puts his “skid lid” on the bar, orders an O’Doul near-beer and scans the bar for chicks that may want a ride on his steel gelding. You know how I know this?

Because he is rocking Harley Davidson boots! That’s a enough for me to summarize this guy. You can tell a lot from a man’s shoes.

(I don’t have anything against scooter riders. I was stretching for material today)

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