I love motorcycles. Motorcycles are still cool. They don't really stand for the rebelliousness they used to, but they can still be used to stick it to the man once in awhile. In this case, I am the man.
Commuting is a fact for those of us in suburbia. My particular commute involves parking at a large Park-n-Ride and then hopping a bus. Finding a good spot at this lot has been getting more and more difficult and it's very easy to get excited over the unexpected good spot.
I got burned by a motorcycle. Twice.
This picture shows what I saw two mornings in a row. I pulled down a particular row and, believing I saw a spot between the blue car and the tan car, turned wide so I could pull in. I mean look at it! What would you do?
But here's what was really there. It was the same bike two days in a row. And I had to back up and find something else, all while pretending that I meant to do that.
I hate motorcycles.