As I was minding my own business this morning, driving down Van Ness on my way to work, I was distracted by the leather clad gentleman on a motorcycle next to me. At the light, right as I was about to turn onto Lombard, he looked over and saw me judging his ensemble.
Oh shit. Some handlebar moustache thinks I'm eyeing him.
He screamed over his motor, "Do you know where the Harley dealership is?"
I was dumbstruck.
Do I look like I know where the Harley dealership is? Wait. Actually, I do.
"Do you know the address?"
"I'm supposed to go south."
Yeah, I totally know where it is. It's on South Van Ness. I passed it like, 10 minutes ago.
"Um, you're going north."
"Oh shit this is a big city! Maybe I should pull over and check my map."
"Just turn around. It's on this street, like 20 blocks SOUTH. On the left side of the road."
"Will you pull over and show me on my map."
No. No I will not. This is how Lifetime movies begin. The next thing you know, my mother will speak before Congress as they enact 'Beth's Law' so you can just forget it, belt buckle.
Like a horrible Samaritan, I smiled like I'd never heard that last part and drove off, slightly concerned that I knew where the Harley dealership was and some man with leather pants pulled over his jeans didn't...