The importance of being careful.

Monday morning on my way to work I was passed by a dude on a motorbike going way too fast. I assumed it was a dude because I have never seen a chick on that type of motorbike, the kind where you have to sit forward on it and it has big wheels that from a distance look bald.

It was raining that morning, raining buckets. When he passed me, I said out loud (because I talk to myself a lot), "that dude is going way too fast." Maybe on a straightaway or if it hadn't been raining, he would have been fine. I knew he was coming up to the giant hidden pothole on the entrance to the highway at the Glade Road exit on I-75.

I saw him wipeout completely in that giant hidden pothole, saw his bike mostly submerged in the water and watched all the rest of the cars pass him and not stop. I pulled over.

Now, a billion different things race through your head at six in the morning on a cold, rainy, very dark Monday: is he dead, is he hurt, is he drowning, is he pinned, does he have a gun, I can't do anything to help, what am I going to say, wow it's cold, my hair is still wet, did I lock my car so the homeless guys I've seen living in the woods by this exit don't get in my car, I hope Jim doesn't get mad that I'm doing this, what the heck am I doing.

By the time all those thoughts finished, I was standing next to the dude who had clambered out of the giant hidden pothole and was trying, unsuccessfully, to start up his bike.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I just wiped out in that giant hidden pothole!" He replied. He didn't take his helmet off but my brain immediately gave me a mental image of Bill or Ted having a bogus journey.

Now, I still can't believe this came out of my brain but it did so I have to take credit for it...

"Ya, that corner is a doozy!"

(I'm shaking my head and doing a mental face palm. Could I sound more like an old man in a rocking chair at that point?)

The dude tries to start his bike again but it's just not happening.

"Do you need a phone?" I ask.

"That would be great."

I hand him my phone and realize that it says 'Hello Bears' on the screen with a picture of Jim in his hoodie making a silly picture. Oh well. The dude is having some difficulty working the phone and it makes me realize that not everybody has a cellphone these days. He takes his glove off and I'm still trying to figure out how he's going to work it with his helmet on. While the phone is dialing (I had to tell him to hit the SEND button), he tries his bike again and this time it fires up. He hands me the phone back, awkwardly closing the display.

"I'm not sure how to turn it off."

"It's okay, I got it," I said. "You have a better day, okay?" I add before I start walking back to my car.

I hear him shout, "Bless you!"

I jog back to the car, shivering, realizing that it's really cold, really wet and I should have said, "Hey dumbass, next time it's raining and dark, maybe you shouldn't try that corner at fifty," but when you've just taken a dunk in that giant hidden pothole of life, the last thing you need is advice you already knew.