Last month while on our annual ADV ride in Maine I broke my ankle when the KTM 990 didn't take well to some Quad Ruts. Anyway, yesterday I got out of the cast and got into a walking boot. This morning I pull up to Cumberland Farms and parked in one of the gas lanes. I walk up through an open parking space toward the front door, I admit not too briskly but OK. All of a sudden about half way through the parking space and maybe 10 feet from the door I hear somebody banging on the horn right behind me. I figure, "What Ahole friend of mine is behind me busting my chops?" Well to my surprise it was a thirty something, possible construction worker, in a beat up headlight frosted 90's era Taurus. I just turned around and looked at him with a WTF? look. Never saw him inside but appeared to be just another Douche Bag mad at the world and blaming everyone else for his issues. That, for whatever it's worth, was my take on him.
Just had to get that off my chest.
