Sheri,What I failed to include in my email to Sheri (she's such a nice human being and the woman was undoubtedly a neighbor...there's only a handful of houses in her cul-de-sac), was how I wanted to turn around and rail on that dirty whore in the land yacht because I had the random act of kindness to think of her left-turning plight by moving over and she didn't have common decency to even recognize that I was in distress. And that D.W. glared without looking at me. Of course, I realize she was probably clueless that there was an issue at all.
The fact that you and I have done some great work in the past half year became glaringly obvious Wednesday after class.
I'm at the stop sign at the end of your street, waiting on a woman who's turning left in front of me on to said street. I was going to turn left and take a scenic route home, and as I was waiting for her to turn, I thought I might be too far out for the land yacht to turn in without giving me a glare...so I move over a little to the right to give her some room...and lose my balance. I reefed on my front brake and the front end of the bike dove down and to the right. My bike wanted to lay down REALLY BAD. So there I am, the bike about 15 degrees from upright...which doesn't sound like much, granted, but the center of gravity on sportbikes is high, so it weighs a TON that little bit over. That might be an exaggeration...
As sure as the little bit of my face showing turned beet red and I grunted and groaned, I watched that woman turn left and not even look my way. My salvation appeared in the guise of a guy in a pickup truck behind her. I let go of the clutch (which killed the bike) and managed to wag a finger at him to "come hither" PLEASE. He looked. He stopped. He backed up. Amazingly, during that backing up, I managed to shift my right leg in a little and bring the bike up enough to return to upright. I thanked him wholeheartedly for sending his helpful karma my way as I determined his returning to aid me brought some much-needed measure of strength into my now bunched, noodly right thigh. He wondered what I was doing. I said, 'Well it wasn't fun whatever it was," and I send him on his way.
...I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have saved it before I started yoga. Thanks.
Now THERE'S a testimonial. "Sheri's client saves money; paint job."
...Ever get that moment of rage when you are considerate enough to hold a door open for someone and they don't acknowledge it? I usually snap inside and end up saying loud enough, "Why, thank you for holding the door for me!" and follow that up with, "Of course! It was my pleasure!" Alternatively, you get someone who doesn't hold the door open for you when you're right behind them. Again, I say out loud, "Thanks for holding the door, you douchebag." I'm paraphrasing there.
How do you get over it when you give and don't receive? I can do that with gifts, no problem. But if I hold the door open for you, you DAMN well better AT LEAST acknowledge my gesture with a nod (I'll assume you're mute or don't speak English...though I know "Thank you" in most languages).
...I'm not such a nice person sometimes...but I'm funny!