Bartender! Get the ladder!
I'm buying one for everyone that happens to wander in here, all the way up to "Last Call". And you my friend, are pouring from the top shelf...... And that goes for the bottled water too......Thank you.

Now how do I 'splain this?
Yesterday, I was breaking bread (literally) with Tom Malmevik, his latest wrist splint, and Wolfpup. It's a tradition that was started way back in November. We call it Live to Ride. Ride to Lunch. And it's open to anyone who wants to skip work..... or whatever, for a couple of hours.

It was decided that Cafe Veloce, in Kirkland, WA would be an appropriate spot this time, because it's theme is old Italian racing motorcycles. As a matter of fact, high up on all the corners, are TV screens, all tuned to Speedvision. And, as luck would have it, the lunch hour offering was............ Racing Motorcycles!

It was rumored that Dennis Peterson would join us. Soon, we heard the distinctive rumble of a v-twin Harley, and saw a flash of green zip by the window. Moments later, rumor turned into fact, when Dennis walked in.

Introductions were made and more bread was broken. Speaking of broken, the conversation soon drifted towards Tom's lay down on I-5 in Seattle the day after Christmas and Redbeard's recent tankslapper in Texas. (BTW, R.E. Here's to your speedy recovery and quick replacement, or repair of your ride.)

The strange part of the conversation was, the Speedvision show was now all about spectacular motorcycle wrecks. And while Tom was describing his harrowing tumble down the freeway, ALL the screens were showing riders doing ass over tea kettles on the racetracks.

THEN, while Dennis and Wolfpup were exploring the physics of tankslappers, I could see their points about how FAST these things really do happen being emphasized right there on TV by a series of tankslappers shots.

R.E, you couldn't describe it better when you said you only had about a half of a second to even think about reacting. In between the food and conversation I was interrupted a couple of time by phone calls from my bestest friend who bought a nicely prepared 1995 Sportster the night before. I had enough courtesy to take the calls OUTSIDE... where they belong.

My friend was hoping I could pick up the paper work from the guy he bought the bike from and go to the DMV and pick up the license tabs. Well, of course I could. I mean, I have nothing better to do the rest of the day. And I just love hanging around that place at the end of the month. Don't you? Nothing thrills me more than to sit in a tiny room with twenty or so dazed and confused folks. All of us just staring at the electronic number on the wall...... because there is NOTHING else to read. Then focusing on that little piece of paper clutched between forefinger and thumb with a number on it that is somewhere well beyond infinity. How many times have you tried to change the number on the paper by staring at it, and willing it to be the next one on the electronic thingie.
That's what friends are for. I guess.

After I sit back down from the second or third call from my little buddy, Wolfpup leans forward and says, "We've been talking about you". Then he smiled.
Uh, oh!
My first reaction is one of embarrassment. I immediately check to see if my fly is open and my "dagger is unsheathed". (I stole that line from "The Taming of the Shrew")
Nope............. not this time anyway.
My next reaction was one of panic. Ah nuts! They know the cell phone game where the jerk who is on the phone when the check hits the table has the honor of paying the whole tab.
I look down. There is a bill on my plate. Rats. Busted. I pick it up............... It's just mine. Hazaa. They don't know the game.

So my response was.......... "I know".
Why did I say that? Because they all were staring at me. And I flashed back to one of the Spanish Inquisition I went through in Catholic School, 36 years ago. So I just confessed to what ever they were talking about. Old "habits" die hard.
But, nothing more was said. Nadda. Zippo.
Dodged another bullet.
We all went our separate ways.
I went to the DMV and got home after sunset.

But wait! There's more!

When I did get home, there was one email waiting for me.........
It was from Dennis.
Unbeknownst to me, they had poured a bucket of slime on my seat while I was outside.
I sat right down on it. OH MY GOD!!!!!!!! I'd been slimed!!!
Well, I been accused of having my head up my ass many times, but apparently it's facing forward because I didn't see what I was sitting on......er, in. And those three just sat there and watched. No reaction........ (I forgot there were Assholes (tm) at the table, too)
They just let me go to some hoity toity office to pick up some papers,
dripping a silvery trail behind me, and all the way over to the DMV. NOW I know what all those people were laughing about when it was my turn to pay homage to that mysterious person behind the little window. I also know why no one took the ONLY recently vacated seat in the joint.

Well, I'll be dipped!! I am indeed honored.
Ahem... cough.....
I promise to uphold the... whatever it is I'm s'pose to hold up. And prob'ly follow the..... stuff I gotta ......... follow. OK?
"Play ball!"
--
Bill F.
The slimy, and shiny new..... BS#148

www.billfarnsworthvideo.com