Ask Joe

It's funny, the things that go through your mind when you are about to die...

I was heading down 4th Street, down that steep hill doing about 35. 35 clicks, with nothing between me and the asphalt except my boots. I had just been thrown from my motorcycle. Some chick was too busy yapping on her cell to notice me. She took out my bike. I managed to stay upright. Something about the downhill slope and my direction of travel, I just started to slide on the slick surface. I'm like one of those barefoot water skiers. Except I'm not on water, and I'm not barefoot. Not yet.

The smoke started almost instantly, followed soon by the intense heat. And the sound. Lord! It was like the most horrible "nails on chalkboard" screaching you've ever heard. Why I haven't slammed face first onto the asphalt by now is a mystery to me, but I figure, what the hell. I'm still alive, might as well go with it.

My shoes are on fire now. The nerve endings in my feet must have been seared, because I could feel no pain. Just an increase in vibration and slickness that told me my soles had worn through.

The traffic light in the intersection ahead of me is red, naturally. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a citation wielding dickless Tracy watch me pass. Ah fuck! Now I'm going to get busted for running a red light. I'll have to ask Joe to help me out with this one, if I live to tell him about it...