Its been a long time since I’ve had to do an emergency brake. Bout 3 bikes time I reckon. Riding down the street to have lunch with the Mrs and a metallic green commode comes flying out of Maccas drive through. Usual didn’t look kinda thing. I’m on the anchors back end is floating and the front shuddering as I teetered on the verge of locking the front completely. Had a friend in a cage, who rides, saw it all happen and said straight out that experience saved me. He reckons, had it been him, there is no way he coulda stopped the bike that quick or that safely. I held my line and came to a complete stop from 61 km an hour. (I was watching the speed as there are often cameras on that stretch of road). Glared at the drive who’d finally looked and stopped, stalling his crap-a-door in the middle of the lane. Which drew a disgruntled toot from a car coming the other direction who had just exited a round-a-bout and wasn’t travelling at any speed and therefore hardly needed to brake. Sure enough the disgruntled cager decided to lean on the horn while waving hand gestures implying the need for Mr Commode to go and fornicate with himself. End result Mr Commode is a bad driver for blocking the traffic. So my point/s. 1. Idiot in commode. One of many. Shouldn’t be surprised. 2. Glad I’ve still got the skills. 3. Thinking ABS on a bike isn’t such a bad thing for a noob to have. But then again, they’d never acquire the skill to brake hard and control the braking by feel. 4. And, here it comes. My actually gripe. What about me!?! So he blocked traffic. I just lost ten years of my life. Wasted a good couple of millilitres of adrenaline that could have been induced by a nice winding road through the hills. And all anybody (disgruntled cager) cares about is not being able to get to Mc Donalds. Thank you for reading the ravings of an invisible motorcyclist. Oh funny thing. Got back to work and there is a 4WD in my motorcycle parking bay. I pull up on the grass beside the car park and get off. The woman strapping her children in turns to look at me and says, “Oh, that’s what the line down the middle of the car park means. I’m in your carpark arn’t I? I’m sorry.” I replied with the courteous, “It’s ok. No worries.” She goes back to strapping her kidlings in so I get my walking stick out of its tube on the side of the bike and start heading to the door as she turns around stating that “At least it’s not a disabled spot.” She sees me and does the whole OMG hand over mouth and profuse apologies. All I could do was smile. Bet she thinks twice about the line down the middle from now on.