Trip Start Aug 28, 2008
48Trip End Ongoing
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I had my first off last night!
I was sitting in neutral at some traffic lights, awaiting a change, looking very cool and with yesterday's left over curry in a bag hanging off the left handlebar when the engine began to stutter and die. Hadn't I given it enough love? Was it angry because I had been lusting over the Honda Wave parked next to me, with its equally lust worthy rider clad in black satin hot pants and tight white 't' shirt?
Slightly embarrassed and being in a mood to make the little bastard suffer I gave it a huge handful and held it at what must have been about 8000 rpm. As the lights changed and the traffic light grand prix began I kept it wide open and stamped the gearlever back into 1st, at which point all hell broke loose...
The clutch bit instantly, the bike rotated and stood up on its back wheel smacking me full in the face with its speedo. Panic bit and forced me to squeeze the front brake lever back to the bars. The front wheel being somewhere around head height, this had no effect other than to prevent me from releasing the throttle as the bike leaped forwards.
With both feet flailing behind, lying prone on the seat and the bike approaching vertical, I was catapulted, high pitched screaming, across several lanes of traffic until I regained the presence of mind to fall over sideways like a sack of shite to the ground.
Even now, I had maintained my 'death grip' on the throttle whilst trying to pick the bike up, causing the malevolent beast to circulate rapidly around me like a whirling dervish each time the madly spinning back wheel touched the ground.
I fumbled for the ignition switch, failed miserably and finally managed to kill the howling engine by pulling off the HT cap and break dancing 20,000 volts through my body. After the excitement of the past few seconds, it felt quite peaceful and relaxing. Until the exhaust finished burning a hole in my trousers and started on my leg. I jumped quickly to my feet and took note of the situation. A bent right foot peg and a missing ball end...boy these things bounce well!
At that point Miss Hot Pants cruised by on the Wave and smiled smugly. I tried to regain my cool and pretend that I actually did this for a living. I waved my hand nonchalantly, gave my shoulders a gallic shrug and she laughed. I'd pulled!
Then I looked down and realised in horror that the seat of my pants were stained in yesterday's Vindaloo.