The Accident, Revisited

Last night before pub quiz, I talked with my friend and Assistant Captain T. He was the one who talked me into buying my rollers, which I told you about in this story.

I related the story to him, and he knew pretty much right where it was going when I started. He's no dummy. After telling him about the now healed bruise and the crossbar to the testicles, he stood up and gave me a high-five.

It was a high-five of sympathy. A high-five between two bikers who recognize what is, in a twisted, painful way, a rite of passage. He looked at me and said "I'm surprised you're able to ride one-handed on them. I can't even push my glasses up."

"I'm a Libra, man, we're all balanced and shit."

"Oh yeah."

Lots of good it did me on Sunday, too.