After working all night I returned around seven am to find my motorcycle had some company.
This is a great example of why I love this town. Even the expensive and upcoming neighborhoods have a host of zombie, story-maker types who are up to no good at all hours.
So what’s the story here? Did somebody plop down next to my bike and have at this jug of wine? I’d like to pretend they got up on the bike and just went to town, pretending they were racing down the highway. Maybe it was the same asshole who cut off and stole a helmet of mine a week ago and was wearing it now just to play the part.
I’ll bet you looked bad-ass you sweet racer of the night.
Related posts:
Photo-shoot for the Terminally Ill
"The Domino Fort" - TNB
