The garage door rolled up to a gorgeous Texas October morning. 70 degrees. Balmy. Breezy. One of *those* days.
As I backed the big cruiser out of the garage I already knew getting to work this morning was going to be tough. Despite high speeds and making miles, The Dragon just doesn’t seem to “get me there” on mornings like this.
The wife recognized the signs as I kissed her goodbye (translation: smooched her hard and grabbed her on the ass) and said with resigned tone and a grin, “At least try to stay in the state.”
I tweaked her on a nipple, gave her another smooch, and said with my best innocent look, “No idea what you’re talking about.”
The problem started early. Northbound on US 75 the traffic was light and moving out. Eighty miles-per-hour moving out. The traffic wasn’t the problem though. Neither was the speed. “Northbound” was the issue. Work is roughly 20 miles south of home.
Durn bike. Right instead of left. North instead of south. Eighty miles-per-hour on the open freeway to who-knows-where instead of south in traffic to sit out the day in a cube in a hall.
I let it go on for a while…but eventually that damn work ethic caught up with me and I realized I’d have to head south at some point.
Garland to Dallas via Van Alstyne. One-hundred miles to go twenty. Hmmm…works for me!
Oh, I did do something constructive for those that feel the need to justify their “non-productive-to-the-state” journeys. I stopped by my doc’s office and paid some cute chick to stab me in the arm.
For the more…ur…dramatic among you…I got my annual government mind-control, big-pharma, toxic waste shot. It apparently interacts with the chem-trails and causes me to be all compliant and stuff. It also causes your offspring to be born naked.
For the more reasonable folks…yeah…got a flu shot. I don’t like the drowning in my own fluids and the gasping and wheezing and dying and all. Weeee!
I’ll see you on the road…(unless you catch the flu).