a while back, a motorcycling man told the bastard, "if you can get past the first 6 months of riding without hurting yourself, you'll be fine."
and i took his word for it, so the bastard tries his damndest to be careful.
flash forward: it's my road test and you have to do a figure 8 in a box that is about 16-20 feet in length. the bastard puts his foot down not once but, twice. i barely passed because of that.
flash forward some more: i'm riding down forest park drive. the bastard has discovered that his favorite park to bicycle in also has roads that he can break in his moto skills ( i don't want to end my life as a squid, you know). as i approach myrtle avenue, i decide to turn the bike around and head back the way i came.
more better.
as i turn around, i go straight into the dirt, on a count of the bastard's aforementioned inability to keep his turns tight (gimme a fucking break, i'm working on it).
i didn't fall off but, it did give me a bit of a start. at least we can move on from there.
—the bastard
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