Looking back, this is kind of a funny story... I had an uneventful ride home from work, yesterday. UNTIL I got into my neighborhood. That's when someone ran into my motorcycle. Literally RAN into me. Of all things, I get run into by a jogger. A JOGGER! Runnin' along, staring at the ground, headphones in her ears. Runs through a four-way intersection, out from behind a really big line of tall bushes. Doesn't look, or pause, just keeps on a runnin'.
I saw her at the last minute and started steering away and slowing down. It happened so fast that steering away didn't get me more than a couple feet away to the left. Slowing down hard got me to an almost complete stop before she ran into me. The woman ran into the back edge of my right saddlebag and down she went.
I asked if she was all right, she said she was (no cuts, scrapes, etc.). And then, she starts yelling at ME. Prolly not the smartest move on my part, but since we were both O.K., I decided that if she wants to play the game where he who get mad first - loses, then we'll play. I told her that her words, actions and behavior reflect, oh so well on her mother and how well mommy taught and raised her. I knew what saying that would accomoplish (and it worked!) OH, boy. That set her off all over again - 'you talkin' 'bout my momma!' kinda stuff. Didn't understand it all, 'cuz she was talking so fast, loud, and using some kind of ghetto that I've never heard before. Smiling and nodding my head seemed to infuriate her more. She finally ended it by calling me a few choice names and went back to her running, still talking about me, agrily, to herself. Talk about entertainment. It was awsome, listening to and watching her tirade. Fun stuff...