|So, . . .
||[Feb. 2nd, 2018|12:54 am]
Phrembah (a potato-like mystery)
Today, between Copper and Lomas on Juan Tabo in the far right lane there was a person on a motorcycle kind of doodling along looking over their shoulder a lot and not really keeping up with the speed limit. Motorcyclists are small dying creatures, and while I'm not sure there are any motorcyclists who don't deserve to die---because Darwin---I don't want to be the one to run over them and kill their asses when they come off the bike in the middle of the road. I finally went around this person and got back in the right lane because I was turning soon. At the light at Lomas and Juan Tabo, we all had to stop, but the cyclist got between the cars and went to the front of the line. When the light changed, they popped a wheelie and rode from Lomas to Constitution, precisely one half mile, on the rear wheel. I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to pass them because I was afraid they were going to lay the bike down any second and, again, I didn't want to be the one to render them paraplegic with my truck. At Constition, they put the bike back down on two wheels and had to wait briefly for the light. I caught up and saw that whoever it was had long blond hair flowing out from under their helmet and the bike was painted pink with green paisleys. It made me wonder if it was a girl, though I couldn't really tell as they gunned it to probably eighty miles an hour up to Indian School and turned west. Holy shit, I thought, do it again, do it again!