It hurt so bad I wanted to pop my head off.
..that's the teaser...so let me back up a bit...
This past weekend, I finally got around to packing the motorcycle away for the winter.
My four year old son helped me, which – if you have a small son – consisted of this exchange:
Me: “Hey son, are you going to help daddy clean out the yard?”
My son: “Yep.”
The next two hours consist of me doing the work, while he’s running around the yard wearing my motorcycle helmet saying things like, “Luke…I’m your father.”
Thanks for the help, kid.
Anyway, so prior to putting the bike away, I toyed with the idea of actually just selling it. Get rid of it. Be done with it.
I contemplated this for a number of reasons:
1) Putting the motorcycle away is a pain in the ass...and I don’t like working.
2) It’s more of a commuting vehicle now, instead of a weekend fun vehicle.
3) I MIGHT DIE ON IT
It’s the last one that gets me going every so often.
If you’ve read my other driving post, you know that I once skidded across an intersection on a piece of fruit, whereas the prophecy of a beach medium flashed before my eyes (she told me I would die on a motorcycle…how noble of her. BITCH).
But it wasn’t the first time something went wrong on my bike.
On Mother’s Day, circa 1998, my wife and I decided to take the bike out for a spin.
It was fairly nice out, and I – wearing a full-face helmet – decided to drive with my visor in the “up” position so I could talk to her. I usually don’t do this, as I wear glasses and I look WAY cooler with the full Darth Vader thing going on.
Anyway…we were on a back road when I saw it coming…a little black dot in the distance…flying…
..then it hit me in the face..
Whatever hit me in the face then proceeded to crawl along the side of my face, into my helmet…where it then decided that my ear looked like a nice little place to investigate.
Mind you, I’m still driving. I’m driving as I feel something WALK INTO MY HEAD.
“Hey…an eardrum! Let’s check it out!”
It started hurting.
It started hurting like when you go just a little too far with a Q-Tip…except this thing is JAMMING the Q-tip into my skull.
I slam on the brakes.
I rip the helmet off and am jumping up and down with my head tilted like I’ve got seven gallons of water in my ear.
I reach in to grab it.
It’s not there…I can’t grab it…it’s in my head so far that my wife can’t even see it.
I look up and notice that I’m on the front lawn of a very large, nice house.
The owner of this very large, nice house is now standing in their doorway trying to figure out why there’s a guy doing the Macarena on his front lawn while screaming like a little girl.
I bolt for him and – with the thing in my head now playing a game of Twister – muster up an, “Can I borrow a pair of tweezers, please? I have something in my ear.”
This nice guy ushers me into the house and up his stairs…
…where his entire extended family is just sitting down to a Mother’s Day meal.
They’re all at the table…they’re all looking at me…there’s food…it looks good.
“What’s wrong?” says the guy’s wife.
“He has a bug in his ear. We need a pair of tweezers.”
Everyone’s face at the table goes pale.
Normally, I would feel bad…except for the fact that I’m in so much pain, I’m considering passing out.
I grab it.
I grab…a…a wing (?)…and pull…
…out it comes.
A large, brown, hornet.
Except, it no longer looks like a hornet.
It looks like a hornet that went out on a Friday night, got shitfaced, crawled into a vat of goo and passed out.
Clearly, my ear – and all the wax contained therein – fought a mighty battle against the intruder.
Everyone at the table is horrified as I hold this thing up like a fishing trophy. I see Grandma throw up a little in her mouth (either that, or she readjusted her teeth).
The nice guy emerges, a bit too late, with the tweezers. “Got it,” I said, and I show him my catch.
His face goes pale.
There’s silence in the house.
I muster up the following gem of dialogue:
“Sorry to BUG you.”
ba dum crash
No one laughs.
Gathering up the carcass, I simply say, “Thank you…Happy Mother’s Day” and leave…
...never to put my visor up again.
I wonder how their dinner went.