Did you think my Motorbike drama would be over? I did too.
To my dismay, it is not over. For a while I was smooth sailing. No accidents, no whiskey throttles, perfect parker. I would even go as far to say that I was a really good motorbike driver. Until I nailed the man on the ferry on the way to Monkey Island. I wrote that off as a one-time accident. I was okay for a while. However, a few months later I had a few days where a real life series of unfortunate events commenced.
As I was driving home from work for lunch, I noticed something long and clear coming from behind my gas gauge, near the throttle. At a stoplight I leaned over to get a better view of what I could possibly be seeing. As the light shone inside of my bike I could see a small pair of eyes looking back at me. There was a rat or a mouse INSIDE of my bike. I almost threw up on spot. I made it home (driving with my hands as far away from the bike opening as possible) and FaceTimed my parents.
*I’m not sure why I called them. Obviously it was more of a comfort because my parents could do nothing for me.
Three different security guards tried to get it out, but they all ended in failure. Eventually I ended up just shoving branches in the open spaces and wearing gloves while I drove. The very next day I traded that bike in to my rental company. They didn’t care about the mouse so some there poor soul is driving with the mouse inside.
My second motorbike drama came when I was least expecting it (am I ever expecting it?)
The day started like any other normal day. I woke up, had a nice little breakfast, did a little writing, set up posts for Shrine and Glamtrotting, edited a few blog drafts, and went to the nail salon to get my nails done. The nail salon was great. I sat right down, they had tra da ready for me, and on this special day they had a brand new bottle of matte black. My day was looking up.
But in reality it wasn’t chill at all. Lol. As I was driving to lunch I was going up the curb as I do just about every other day. I swear before this all happened I saw it all flash before my eyes. As I was making my way up the curb, my bike decided it didn’t want to go up the curb. Instead, the wheels on my bike spun out and flipped on its right side taking me with you. I wasn’t hurt but I was definitely embarrassed. There was a large group of Vietnamese eating lunch who just stared at me when I went down. Of course everyone just stared at no one made a forward motion to help a sista out. Jackasses.
Beyond my embarrassment, my beautiful manicure and pedicure were ruined. So damn frustrating.
Alas, lunch was good, my time spent at the coffee shop went well. Before I could go home I needed to get gas because my tank was empty and my bike was performing very poorly. I filled up my tank, drove home, put my kickstand down, popped my trunk, opened the gate to park my bike like I always do. I pushed my bike into a space and began walking upstairs. As I was walking away my bike didn’t catch on the kickstand – it just began falling right over! I wasn’t strong enough to catch it so I had to just let it fall on the ground. What was weird was that liquid began pouring out of my bike. I didn’t have water in my trunk so I was dumbfounded as to what it was. But then the smell came. After I got gas I forgot to put the gas cap back on. This is a bit of a classic, forgetful move on my part.
In the end it was alright. Just a day of me shaking my head at myself.