I spent part of my day dealing with the fact that either my landlord or my downstairs neighbor knocked over my motorcycle so hard that they bent the clutch handle underneath the handlebar, snapped the clutch cable, cracked my front turn signal, snapped off my rear turn signal and scratched my gas tank. No one fucking told me. I just found it upright, with the broken parts dangling. And here I pay to keep it garaged to protect it. I am very, very angry — that calm anger, you know? My bike is part of me; a vintage beauty.
When I fix it I’ll post pictures so you can see what I mean. In the meantime I’m not sure what to do. Except calm down.
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