So there I am riding my Harley today for the first time since I had hemorrhoid surgery, looking back I probably should have had my donut shaped cushion on my Harley seat to lessen the pain but hey, I’m big and tough and can take it. I’m mean it’s a flat road and smooth and what could possibly go wrong. I’m cruising on Platte and approaching a truck when this guy in a car pulls out in front of me. Having the cat-like reflexes that I have I deftly serve onto the shoulder and into the rumble strip (gotta admit that rapid & constant jolting hurt my hemroids and made my real angry) however I see a COAR15 sticker on his rear window and try to signal that he’s ok with me by showing him he’s #1. Well, sort of…the bike accident I had last year took most of the fingers off my hand so the only one I had left was my middle finger but I showed it to him anyway in hopes that he’d see that I didn’t have the other fingers and could figure out what I meant.


Right then I notice the paint job on his car and want to tell him I LOVE that color so I pull over to tell him but my freaking Tourette’s makes a terrible time to rear it’s ugly head and all I can get out of my mouth is a spew of nasty words. Somewhere my beloved Mom is turning over in her grave with the words that came from it but somewhere a Marine drill instructor is nodding his shaven head in approval so they equal out.


Man, I feel bad as the fellow sped off probably thinking I was some raving lunatic riding a Harley when all I wanted was to go share a cup of coffee and chat about where he got that car painted. God I love that color.