As some of you who are friends with Heather on Facebook probably already know, I bought a motorcycle last Saturday. It’s a brand new 2009 Kawasaki Vulcan 900.
It looks like this:

It’s the first motorcycle I’ve ridden in 17 years.
Remember on my earlier post when I talk about mid-life crisis and how I should probably wait to get motorcycle until my end-of-life crisis? Apparently that time is now.
I haven’t actually had much time to ride it yet. In a week I’ve only put about 50 miles on it, and the coating on the tires doesn’t even wear off until after 100 miles or so. Part of the reason for the low miles is because I didn’t know if my insurance policy covered me when I bought it, and my agent wasn’t back in his office until Tuesday. Another reason is because after 17 years of driving cars I find that I’m a bit freaked out being back on a bike. And the roads around here are fucking awful. I’ve missed several horrid potholes by blind luck so far.
I was able to ride the bike to work yesterday and today. This morning the ride in was a much nicer than yesterday, mainly because I’ve stopped trying to get used to the heel foot shifter, which I’d never used before, and focused on the toe shifter for all of my shifting needs. I figure once I’m re-accustomed to riding, and the bike is broken in a bit more, I can revisit the concept of using my heel to shift up, and my toe to shift down. Right now? Too old and set in my ways.
So I made it in to work, feeling good. I went the whole trip without stalling the bike once, shifting went fine, traffic wasn’t bad, potholes didn’t kill me. My gloves are hurting a bit across my knuckles though, and I think I’ll stop by the shop where I bought them and ask about them. They cost too much to just ignore it. I put my gear on my desk, took my lunch from my backpa…
ARRRGH! WHAT THE…?!
A bee stung me on the palm of my left hand! Right below my index finger! Crrrraaaaaaaaap! That hurt. It still hurts. I just got attacked by an insect stowaway on my shifting hand. Why’d it have to sting my shifting hand?!
The drive home is going to be interesting.
Now, at that moment I didn’t know if I was allergic to bee stings or not. It would appear to be “not,” but that doesn’t make me like them any better.
I’m fine with bees, at a distance. I know they are an important part of the ecosystem, and I like honey, but FUCK YOU MR. BEE! I don’t feel the slightest bit bad that you are going to die, you treacherous bitch bug. You could have flown away at any time, but no. You had to lie in wait and ambush me when my gloves were off. I could squish you and end your suffering, but I don’t think so. My hand is going to be hurting for quite awhile, and I still don’t know how bad the trip home is going to be, so no mercy killing for you. I’m just going to dump you in the grass outside and you can lay there and think about how you fucked up. Enjoy what time you have left. Bastard!
I do like my new bike though.