[Ducati] I must have missed the idiot day warnings

Mon Sep 3 21:48:06 EDT 2007

That was hillarious!!!! Mr. Taurus sounds like our typical LA Cager's!!!

----- Original Message ----
From: Aaron Gillies <contingencya at yahoo.com>
To: Ducati Owners Group <ducati at ducati.net>
Sent: Wednesday, August 29, 2007 2:56:47 PM
Subject: Re: [Ducati] I must have missed the idiot day warnings

This is amazing. This is funny. This is amazingly funny!! WOW!!

Michael Menard <mpmenard at comcast.net> wrote:  A friend posted this on another list I am on, and I had to share it. I
removed the guy's name and email, so he won't get bugged. If the story is
indeed true, whoa...

Beppe

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post follows
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Subject: I must have missed the idiot day warnings

> From: xxxx xxxxx
Date: August 16, 2007 11:58:23 PM PDT

I tell you gang, today's roads here were just brimming with idiots.
They were not the garden variety distracted or flustered moron types today,
instead they were the what planet did you say you were from variety.

It started this morning, I'm about to ride the bike around the corner, down
a block, turn and three blocks down the gas station when I hear this car
coming up my street. Now when I say hear the car coming I'm not quite
accurate since all I can hear is the scraping of the metal parts of the seat
belt dragging on the asphalt. I mean its louder the engine of this battered
Taurus wagon. As the vehicle passes I point at the belt and yell, "Your Belt
is dragging", Both my next door neighbor and the teenager from across the
street hear me.
the car goes almost three more houses down the street and then stops with a
screeching of brakes and skidding of tires. The driver rolls his window down
and says loudly, "the speed limit on this street is
25 miles per hour".
I responded a little bit louder this time, "Okay, Your seat belt is dragging
on the ground". The drive now leans his head out of the car, but stays
facing away from me (it's amazing how they think the mirror will make their
voices carry in the right direction) and this time yells, "the speed limit
on this street is 25 miles per hour". As he says that the car lurches off
down the street struggling to build any speed.
I quickly jog across my neighbors property and stand on the edge of the curb
and Yell, "That's right, but your seat belt is out in the street".
Shrieking brakes, skidding tires like you hear from the background just
before a movie or TV car crash scene, the car stops at the end of the block
barely. With a horrendous crunch of gears and a big lurch, the car settles
and the drivers door is flung open. Now this moron jumps out of the car and
screams at the top of his lungs, "the speed limit on this street is 25 miles
per hour". He sucks a huge breath and dives back into the car, slamming the
door shut on the seat belt again.
Now I bellow, "wake up you moron, your seat belt is hanging out of your
car". He responds by sticking his entire arm out of the window to wave his
middle finger around in a circle. Then with another crunch and jolt takes
off.
Both my neighbors are laughing like crazy as I shrug and walk back to my
bike.
Pull on my helmet and gloves, while the bike warms up then head out.
Its hot and I'm only going a couple of blocks in the heat, so I don't put my
visor down. A left around the corner up to the end of the block, hang a
right and go three blocks to the gas station. It almost seems magical
because what do I see a block from the gas station, the white Taurus pulled
over with a borough police Explorer behind, its lights flashing. As I ride
by this loser starts shaking his fist at me, like I had something to do with
it.
I pulled into the gas station headed to the back for the compressor line to
fill my tires first. I'm sort of friends (aka a very regular and customer),
so he lets me use the "free air" compressor hose instead of the coin-op fill
station. The downside is that it is seldom full, so you have to wait for the
compressor to cycle. I flip the shield down to cut the glare from all the
glass of the bank across the street.
Going over to put air in the tires kind of worked out to be a miracle and a
mistake at the same time as the white Taurus comes by, pulls into the front
of the station. Again he stop the car so hard you swear he's about to have
and accident.
I see him staring at me, and my SA index goes up from blue to orange, or
down from DefCon five to three. He notices that I'm watching him, so he
starts pointing at me and shaking his fist. When I finish filling up the
rear tire with air, I decide that it is not a good day to have deal with
this lunatic and the resulting BS. As I pull on my gloves and start my bike,
I can hear this madman revving the crap out the motor. I pull away, hoping
that this guy is too stupid to have realized that the back lot has more than
one exit unlike the front of the station.
I feed out the clutch to the sounds of car engine screaming its life away
and one tire howling as it spins. I can't even hear my VFR over the noise
this car is making around the structure of the gas station mini-mart. As I
clear the far side of the building, I see Mr. Taurus sliding around the
outside of the last pump Island and head on what he thinks is an intercept
course.

I take the cue and snap open the throttle as I jink just slightly to the
right, and bolt out the back exit of the station. The exit ramp rapidly
rises to just about two feet higher than the back of the station lot, but
apparently Mr. Taurus has target fixation and fails to notice. He slams the
car into the berm, vaulting the front wheels up onto the ramp. but the rear
of the car is not clear. I keep going but hearing the motor continue rev at
it limit and the tires shriek, I check my mirrors to see the him dragging
the rear of the wagon up over both the curbs.
The exit from the back of the gas station goes about thirty feet and dumps
into a driveway that allows access to a small grocery store and a public
storage site. I considered hiding in the PS, but pass on it quickly, I want
out of here. I ride across and behind the back of the store. There are
loading docks back there and truck entrance on the other side. It "T" into
the street near a corner so I duck left and then right. I'm over the borough
line in the next township, but I want to get back over the line into the
borough where the cop that had just stopped him is based. I'm trying to
balance riding like a lunatic up a residential street against getting run
down by this guy.
Then I spot a Township cop sitting in the shade of the cross street about
four blocks up. I swing a left up that street and then do a quick U-turn. I
pull right up next to the cruiser and stop. I flip up the front of my helmet
before I say anything just so I can look the cop in the eye.
Well, the cop is a guy that I went to High School with so I know that I'll
be able to convince him that I'm in a sh!tload of trouble. He was surprised
enough at first that he did not roll the window down when I stopped, but
when he see's my face, one hand jumps to the window buttons and the other
grabs for the radio Mic.
I blurt out his name and that I need some help, just as Mr. Taurus comes
sliding around the corner, the back end of the wagon a total disaster. He
slides by the police cruiser and my bike way wide, over on the other side of
the street with the right rear tire humping and banging on the curb, then I
guess his brain registers the police cruiser and he buries the throttle.
Unfortunately for him this street is almost three blocks long but has no
cross streets and dead ends in lot with a house foundation in it and huge
dirt berm back stopping it.
I still don't know what this loon thought, but he just barreled full bore up
onto the lot and out over the foundation. The wagon carried the full
basement section at the front of the house and almost cleared the crawl
space wall at the back.
But instead of jumping the foundation, the nose hit the back wall about
three feet down with a slightly nose down attitude. The poured concrete
foundation wall gave less than a foot and flipped the car over. It crashes
down on the rear hatch and digs into the soft berm.
My buddy tries to radio the incident in requesting not only the regular fire
and rescue unit, but the special recovery truck as swell as the EMS and EMT
units. "Come on, follow me" he says as he puts the cruiser in gear and does
a k-turn to go back to the dead end. By the time we roll back there, the
first of the fire trucks (from the station three blocks away) are thunder up
the street. The front wheel on what was the passenger side is still spinning
so fast that you cannot read the lettering on the tire.

It takes the firemen about ten minutes to rig a scaffold supported platform
to reach over the hole so they can work on freeing this guy and another
twenty to get him out. His neck is probably broken, his left shoulder is
dislocated, the collarbone on that side is sticking out through his shirt.
His one leg is all twisted so the either the knee was horribly dislocated or
the femur was broken and he screamed every time anyone touched any part of
his other leg. By that time three other township cops had arrived, one
having been called to the gas station first then getting to the scene.
I was standing off to the side where I could get a pretty good look at him
while I made my statement to my buddies Sergeant. He started with the What
of what happened, asking questions about how the guy came after me. My buddy
had already run my records and handed them to the Sergeant. As we are ending
the part about the chase and what I witnessed of the crashed Mr. Taurus
sudden seems to come out of his shock a bit. He points at me with his right
hand and screams "This Is All Your Fault". He takes a shuddering breath,
winces and screams again "This Is All Your Fault", only this time he passes
out. The one EMT shoots me a look as the other quickly checks the guy's
vitals.
The Sergeant looks at me, then my info, then me, then the papers again,
before he draws pulls himself up and asks me "What started all this".
I tell him straight up just like I told it here, and I can see that he
really doesn't believe me. "Look, my one next door neighbor and the Kid from
across the street were right there and I'm pretty sure that old Ms. Hanes
from up the street was doing her usual busybody bit and heard it all. Call
them if you need to verify it".
So he calls my neighbor, who he happens to know and Steve tells it exactly
like I did. About that time a borough police Explorer pulls up to see if,
they need assistance (The firemen were from the Borough station house so the
cop was following up on their call). It turns out he was the guy that
stopped Mr. Taurus in the first place. He tells the township cop that the
guy became very agitated when a motorcycle passed the traffic stop. The
Sergeant asks the Borough cop if my bike parked to the side was the bike he
saw pass them. The Borough cop confirms that he saw a red bike with a rider
wearing a red jacket and silver helmet go by, then he glances at me and
realizes that I was that rider.
Now I have to tell the whole episode to him and by the time I'm done my
buddy the cop can't stop giggling. Even a couple of the firemen who have
been standing around us start to loose it.
The EMT's load this guy into the ambulance and as it pulls away most of
people who know the whole story start to break up laughing.

I ride home and load the vfr onto the trailer for the trip. I set the wheel
dock, cable lock the front wheel to the mounting base, use ratcheting tie
downs to anchor the rear to the trailer and lock the ratchets with padlocks
and then it hits me. I still did not get gas.
I yell, "I don't believe this" to air and just sit on one of the cargo boxes
on the trailer.
Steve comes around from behind his house (where he's building a deck around
his new pool). He wants to did everything workout. So I tell him "Yeah but
after all that I still didn't get gas, it just goes to prove no good deed
goes un-punished".
He doubles over unable to not laugh and finally I join him.
He grabs his five gallon gas can and runs over to the gas station and fills
it up. He insists that I fill my bike and then won't even take any money for
it.
"best entertainment I've had all month" he said as he walks back to the
posts of his future deck.

As I pack my gear in the cargo box for the trip, I glance at my cell phone
and realize it is only 10:30, "Its gonna be a looonnnggg day".

*****

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Our newest sponsor, MC Stands, has just opened its doors!  It's a motorcycle
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everything they sell.  Check them out!

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