The consistency of the horrible crash stories started to get to me though. Not only did everyone tell ME about their uncle Hubert who accidentally turned the wrong way on a one-way and got fed into a log chipper when he triple-flipped over an suv that dropped out of a tree, but people tell Mrs. Lucky all kinds of stories about it too.
I started to think that maybe people are trying to convince me to stop riding. Well, that's not going to happen.
The stories didn't stop, though. Are they just enjoying telling a gruesome tale? The same way one tells a ghost story? Well, that doesn't seem likely, because EVERYONE (that doesn't ride) has a horrifying motorcycle story for me.
Now, I know that some people don't like motorcycles the way I don't like sparkling-clean SUVs driven by one person in a business suit talking on their cell phone. But I think the reason most people tell me their motorcycle story is because they want to talk about motorcycles and contribute to the conversation, but they only have a story about Uncle Hubert to tell. I'm sure that if they had a story about the awesome time they had riding with their dad, or a great twisty road, they'd tell that instead.
So, from now on, I'm not going to worry about it and just tell them one of my own crash stories. After all, I've walked away from a couple with only a few scrapes and a bruised ego. And then they'll have more than one story to tell the next biker they meet.
Any bikers out there care to comment?
All right! So, wanna hear about the frozen pizza? Of course you do!
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