Not the band.. me, tonight. Here is the story (and I un-edited it from the FB post)
…and out of nowhere a blanket of thick ass fog set in.
I stopped my post work de-stress motorcycle ride for some grub, came outside and couldn’t see anything but fog with all these damn lights around here. (Another thing I hate about living in the city – fucking lights everywhere)
About 10 feet out of the parking lot my goggles fogged over and had so much precipitation on them I was using road reflectors to guide me home. They seriously were wet like a beer that’s been out of the cooler on a summer day. I couldn’t see shit except basic shapes and the glare from headlights, tail lights, street lights, business sign lights, and apparently this little light of mine (I’m gonna let that motherfucker shine).
Felt both terrified and very much alive (w/ excitement). Almost erection worthy that my life was hanging in the balance of fate – I couldn’t take the glasses off because the wind/water at 45mph was blinding… leaving them on at least let me makeout shapes but they would NOT stay clear. My body heat plus the insane drop in temperature outside simply wouldn’t allow it. (Think your car windshield on a cold morning – fogged over)
Got home and my helmet is soaked, leathers are soaked, beard is soaked, and my crotch (from the opening in the chaps) is soaked.. the only thing that’s dry are my damn eyelashes and ass. So the glasses kept the water off my eyelashes and the seat kept the water off my ass. My crotch feels like I was humping in polar bear habitat. (Sorry meyechael)
I think it’s time to go full face helmet, weather is changing too damn much this time of year here and I’ve got some anti-fog tech on that.
The funny thing is now that I’ve stopped pacing and laughing like an idiot I just realized that the little episode I just had killed the stress I was carrying today.
Then, because Karma is a filthy whore with the name of a stripper from Atlanta, my boss calls to grill me on all the shit that happened today after he left (he’s in CST) for the day. Poof. Just like that, 10 minutes after I’m relaxed that happens.
Each and every day I have like this makes me want to point that fucker (the bike not my boss) and drive until I see a Bojangles and then find a job (not at Bojangles). The responsible adult in me will never do that but I’ve got the route saved in my google maps just in case my impulse self says “fuck you responsible adult”.
TL;DR – I was driving blind on my motorcycle and fuck work.
