Yesterday, while sitting in the right hand lane at a stoplight, I see a guy on a Harley snaking his way through the stopped cages. I'm all the way to the left side of my lane, with a pickup to my left. The Harley guy squeezes in right between me and the pickup; I'm so close to the pickup that it makes for a really snug fit. Frickin' idiot. His bike is trashed, dented, torn, and road-rashed all over. He looks over at my bike and sarcastically says "Suuuper-haaawk", reading the decal on the fairing. I was surprised he could read. So, I lift my dark visor and lean over, look at the side of my bike, and, in my best 748_Abuser impression, say "Wow, well look at that!" It was at that moment that I noticed the guy was barefooted, yeah BAREFOOTED, and I started to laugh very loudly (I have never seen a barefooted rider before, hence the title). I wish I could have stopped laughing long enough to say "Nice toes." His only reply was a look of confusion and a thunderous roar of his potato pipes as the light had just turned green.
It takes all kinds, don't it?
"Ultimately, most problems can be solved by applying a large brick to the correct skull. Difficulties arise when you don't have a brick or can't find the the right skull. The Devil is always in the details."