I was polishing the side cases on my bike. Enjoying the nice weather, I had been working on this for a couple day. Started at 90 Grit (they had a couple of scratches) one direction, 110 the other direction, 180, 220 and had begun 320.
A girl from my apartment asked me if I would give her a ride, a few blocks away.
We didn't get more than a block when a brand new Jeep Wrangler runs a stop sign while making a left-turn. I swerved hard to the left and opened the throttle, I felt like I was going to make it, but she still didn't stop and ran straight into my right leg, breaking my tibia -- I couldn't keep the bike up at this point and, was later told, I had hit a parked car.
The girl I was giving a ride to ended up on my back and gas was pouring out of the tank. The next thing I know, the girl driving the jeep -- now with a fresh dent from my leg gets out and starts yelling:
(I wasn't going fast)
The girl I had given a ride to was covered in road-rash pacing back-and-forth, yelling at me to get up and get away from my my bike, "before it explodes."
I told her that doesn't actually happen, but crawled away from my bike and asked a passerby to shut off the ignition.
The girl I was giving a ride to was calling an ambulance while the girl in the jeep kept screaming at me -- she held her finger over the receiver to tell me, "I'm going to kill that stupid bitch!"
The ambulance picked us up and they asked me questions to see if my brain was broken, "Where are you?"; "What year is it?"; somehow it stumped me when they asked me, "who is the president" -- I got the answer right, but somehow it sounded wrong...
They took us to Denver Health -- an unbelievably BAD hospital. But that's another story...
Comment