I was hit by a car. No, it’s okay, really. I wasn’t hurt and no real damage was done.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was my neighbor, Heather, that did it. My garage empties into a little court leading to the public street. I had rolled my motorcycle out, preparing to run some errands. I saw her car, motionless, and she was talking to another neighbor. I had my back to them as I wrapped some bungies around the sissy bar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Suddenly, the rear of her car was pushing me against the motorcycle, my leg sandwiched between her plastic bumper and my license plate holder. I hollered, cursing, and she stopped immediately. She had been moving slowly and reacted quickly. The car halted less than an inch from the sheet metal of my rear fender.
There was no damage, really. A slight bend was visible in the chromed barbed-wire plate holder where my leg had been pressed against it. My arm got scratched a bit – I must have hit something as I spun to turn my attention to the car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I didn’t see you!” she apologized, after seeing that disaster had been averted and everything was basically alright. Those very words are heard by bikers WAY too often.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I delivered the lecture and went about my business.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I was hit by a car. No, it’s okay, really. I wasn’t hurt and no real damage was done. It was my neighbor, Heather, that did it. My garage empties into a little court leading to the public street. I had rolled my motorcycle out, preparing to run some errands. I saw her car, motionless, … Continue reading Hit By A Car<\/span>