Well the bikers. Rarely you find someone who shows no signs of solidarity, but in an unnamed place I get in trouble with one. Already when I arrived he did snide remarks about my motorcycle in his language to his buddy. I understood enough to answer in Englisch: -All bikes are great. I like all bikes, no matter how big or small, what brand, how new or old, everything which has two wheels and a motor. Someone who doesnt appreciate the bike of another, I doubt that he loves his own one.-
He didnt look like he loves anything or anyone. The two days I met him, he avoided completely any contact with anyone except with his very different buddy. Bad mood was carried in front of him in all the time. He might have his reasons, you never know what someone went through, but just a hello would be helpful if you are close together.
Well is it worth to write about it? Is anyone interested in something like this at all and is it meaningful enough to be published?
However, the unpleasant climax was the second day, where the encounter was unavoidable. Three motorcycles from bikers, who left already the country, had to be brought to a cargo company. Most of us had a hangover, including me.
- I would prefer, not to ride someone elses Motorcycle through the crazy city, if anyone else could do it. If at all, let me ride the 1200gs, since I am used to that model, the others I cannot ride.-
Everybody agreed on the 1200gs issue, exept my special friend, who already choose to ride that one. All expalnations by me and others didnt help. Total numbness to the argument, that he can ride the other bike, but not me, it was just too high for my legs.
Ok, there is no way around it but trying the small, high, unstable and nervous little bike. My angry state at this point was already not allowing me to go on the road, that much freaked out I was because of the guy who pretended not to understand anything. Like a little child he was sitting on the 1200gs because it is HIS christmas present, the same model he was so negative about before.
After two meters riding I stopped the motor, got off swearing and almost threw my helmet in a corner. His friendly buddy apologized to me, I apologized to everybody and went away.
Somehow they seemed to have found another solution, but when they came back they told me that it took two tours because of the incident. The stubborn biker showed no expression that anything happened, all was normal behind his defenceline of ignorance.
Three times again I apologized that it made more work than necessary. There should have been another solution, but not in the silly state I let my self get into.
Late afternoon the two leave as well and I am looking forward to the calmness which will come. But somehow I am still unsatisfied about the fact that I had to take the blame and went down rigt before they left, to see if there is anything he maybe has to tell me to resolve the problem. But I just notice him spitting on the ground when he sees me. That was intentional.
-Is there anything?- No answer. -Well, maybe better so ... .-
If it wasnt the nice place to be respected where we were, I might have told him that he has a nut loose, but probably he heard that often before and it would be useless.
He has the nerve to try to shake hands for a good by and it is the ONLY time in my life that I refused a handshake. Instead, I give him a military salute with the hand on the forehead. A grumbling comment to his buddy, which I dont even want to know excactly what this was, is the last thing I hear.
Well, you never know, you might meet again, its a small world. Probably I should have spared the last encounter, or getting over it and making peace, or just not caring about at all so much.