That stooooopid ride

I don't remember the date, or the time of the occurence. I do remember the second thoughts that I had immediately after Rock left the Pic and Go with me on the hood. Durham is correct about the exit from the curb, me holding on to the back side of the hood closest to the windshield, one of the few regrets of my life. Rock sped away as if my life depended on it, and it almost did. We sped down Traction to the stop sign at Jones St. Rock did not observe that stop sign, virtually eliminating any planned "hop off when slowing" escape plan that I could hatch. By the time we passed Waco St, he must have been doing 55 or better. The journey from Waco along Jones Street was particularly hairy as Rock started a swerve move designed to dislodge my grip from the hood. Not a chance! I think that I can better illustrate with graphic aids.



1. Rock - start your engines;
2. The "what stop sign?" left turn
(Larry's surreal realization section);
3. The Jones Street - downhill acceleration section;
4.The Jones Street swerve-a-rama
(The part of the trip that served to remind me that life is indeed precious. Rock must have seen the sheer terror on my face as I shifted from left to right and back again on the hood of the bird. Still on my back at this point);
5. The Dorsey Avenue speed and shake
(Another attempt to test my death grip. I am now on my stomach facing Rock through the windshield. At this point I am begging for my life while not blaming Rock for this vehicular faux pais on my part);
6.The final left turn backstretch
(This is the part of the trip where my true Brandon tenacity shines through. I feel as if I have almost slain the dragon, that is, if Rock actually stops where we first started);
The end of the journey...the real laughter will now begin.

Yes Mr Durham, I do remember that you held your laughter until I had fired up the much-needed ciggy, and for that you are held in my highest esteem. You did, however, lose it post-ride.
I deserved it. It was a moment of sheer stupidity on my part. A valuable lesson was learned, though. And I have followed that lesson to this day. Greg "Rock" Chandler has never had the pleasure of my stupid ass on his hood since.