I work at a bike shop and have to deal with some pretty lame people on a daily basis. Lots of the typical "biker" idiots, lots of squidly kids, lots of boutique-shopping H-D ladies, etc. There seem to be very few people that actually care about MCs these days - it's all a fashion show or an excuse to spend money and brag about it.
There are, however, those days when I get to meet some seriously interesting people (the guy that sold Gary Nixon his first motorcycle, Doug Polen, a couple traveling around the world on their Yamaha Secas, etc).
One of the cooler guys is an older fellow named Chris. He used to race MX (still does actually...), rides his KTM w/knobbies on the highway (and still slides sideways to stops off the exit ramps!), and just genuinely does what he can to piss off people that think motorcycles are something you "do on the weekend."
Anyway, long story short, he came into the shop today and told me to come to his home after work. It was a long, rainy day and the last thing I wanted to do was follow a scribbled map to a trailer park after selling leather vests to douche bags all day long. But... I close the shop, get to his place just before dark, and find him shirtless in his driveway warming up an old Honda CBR1000F Hurricane. He waves me over and hands me the keys, "I want to give you this bike 'cus I know you're into older bikes and you'll take care of her." Told me he remembers the old BSA patch I gave him and he figured it was time to repay the favor. Clean title, runs, new tires.
Shaking my head in disbelief still.
Anyway, just wanted to share in case anyone else was starting to feel a little misanthropic.
I'm gonna go ride
:razz:
Linear Mode
