Well, it’s official. I now have my first BIG Harley fail tucked under my belt.
The other day I was out in my garage, getting ready to take Delilah for a spin. I live in an apartment complex surrounded by garages. They’re all stacked, one right next to the other. We tenants who feel all sorts of special by having our own garage can rent them from the landlords.
I had just strapped on my helmet and mounted my bike when I suddenly heard this high-pitched wheieiieieieieiieeieieiie sound approaching. Kind of like a beefy weed whacker.
Another guy on a motorcycle, much smaller than mine, and definitely not a Harley-Davidson, passed by just as I started my ignition. He glanced over into my garage as he passed. I revved my huge non weed whacker Harley-Davidson engine, just to make sure he heard it.
I never felt like a badder bad ass than I did right at that moment.
I had my bad ass black leather Harley jacket on.
I had my bad ass Harley half helmet secured firmly to my head.
I was wearing my big black bad ass Harley boots.
I had on my bad ass Maui Jim’s sunglasses.
And I was ready to roll.
I put the bike into first gear and rolled out of the garage where I braked so that I could hit the garage door opener and stash my keys to which the opener was attached.
My bad ass Harley gloves were sitting in my lap. I always put them on after I shut the garage door.
And then… it happened.