Once, at a gas stop, I checked out a dude with a withered leg filling up his Electra Glide. He hobbled around with a cane he kept strapped to the back of his bike. When he mounted up he used a bungee chord to strap his leg to the floorboard so it wouldn't flop around and get caught under his wheel and shit.
Today's Badass is cool 'cause he doesn't roll with some lifelike, high-tech, stainless steel, prosthetic pussy leg with wires and cables and shit hooked up to his nerve endings. Dude goes full Captain Hook with an old skool broomstick strapped to his stump.
I salute you Badass. You and your closet full of never-used left shoes. You are a pragmatic, peg-legged purveyor of pugnacity. Keep ridin' bro.
Look at the dude inside the gas station checkin him out. I can hear the conversation, "Is he really going to ride that?!?", "Doesn't he know those are dangerous, and in his condition?!?!" Concerned for "his" safety they buy 700oz polar pops and a dozen twinkies making them lethargic behind the wheel and then cower in their cages forfeiting life just to stay alive.
ReplyDeleteExactly, Wes.
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