When I was about 8 or 9 years old, I went with my mom to her hairdresser's house which was situated one house down from a nasty-ass intersection on a hill. I was standing at the front window watching traffic when I saw this guy on a motorcycle start into a left turn and just get hammered by this old woman in a huge freaking Cadillac. The woman was speeding, we found out later, and I swear that bike exploded into a million pieces on impact. The thing that I had nightmares about for years was watching this guy go flying about 3/4 of a block straight out and then drop about 15 feet to land further down the hill. I didn't realize there was so much blood in a person till that day.
I live about 8 blocks from the local high school in a subdivision where apparently a lot of parents have WAY to much money to spend on Johnnie and Susie OverAchiever. I cringe everytime I see one of these superjocks riding around on a crotch rocket in shorts, a tank top, and sandals, usually with a scantilly-clad female clinging onto them for dear life. In the five years I've lived here, I've heard countless stories of the number of teenagers killed drag racing up and down the streets around here. The cops even left one bike sitting on the corner at one of the really busy intersections so people could see what happens to a bike that hits a telephone pole at about 80 MPH. They didn't bother to clean the blood off, either.
We used to joke that you could tell the ones who had either dumped a bike or knew someone who had... they were the ones in full leathers and a full-face helmet. It started out as a joke, but it's really not all that funny if you think about it.
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