I hadn't thought of this particular incident in years... this reminded me.. so I'll share my truly ... truly.... TRUUUULY horrible experience..
This was several years back.. I suppose I was 19, or maybe 20 at the time. I'd been riding a street bike for about.. hmm.. say 1 1/2 yrs, or maybe 2 at the most. This was back in my squidish days.. well not entirely squidish. I did have a leather jacket, helmet, gloves.. but no pants/boots.
Our story begins on a perfect July 4th day. 85 degrees or so .. some random clouds.. Perfect riding weather. There I was zipping along on my trusty stead.. which at the time was simply an awesome bike to me. It was perfect for a younger, somewhat un-experienced rider. The Awesome 94 Kawasaki EX250. (the little ninja) It was black with purple, green, and silver stripes. I was IT ya know. 19 yo with a sport bike I could afford insurance on. What more could a 19 yo ask for? Anyway.. I'm zipping down Rt. 52 not too far from my parents home in Swords Creek Va. (if your really into details you can map quest it) Somewhere between Saltville VA, and Tazewell VA. It happened.. I felt a very small "bug thump" on my chest. No bother though. "What a nice day to be out riding." .. so far.
Now every guy has a favorite pair of jeans. I am no exception to that rule. Normally said jeans are slightly worn, and have alteast a few holes in them. Again, mine were no exception. The seam in the crotch of these pants had given up trying to stay together. There was about a 1"-2" inch hole in the perfect place to provide... "ventilation" to my boys. All the better to make the ride perfect I thought.
I go about a mile down the road when I feel a squiggling between my legs.. "What the hell?" my mind raced. Any sport biker can tell you that riding down a two lane mnt. road is not the easiest place to be checking your crotch out.. First off.. it's hard to get your hand in there.. and second off your helmets chin bar invariably will be in the line of site. I moved my gloved hand around down there a bit to see what all the hubbub was about, felt nothing, and the squiggling seemed to have stopped. "Some random bug just wanted to check my package out a little.. no biggie". Onward I continued...
More squiggling around.. only this time it's INSIDE my pants. I can feel little legs wiggling about.. actually touching areas that aught not be touched by anything posessing more than two (preferably shaven) legs. Suddenly there is a very sharp, seering pain in my nether region.. a pain that instantly says "STOP THE BIKE NOW OR I'M GETTING OFF WITHOUT YOU." Much panic stoppage, and frantic kick stand putting down insues. I can still feel some creeping going on, plus I've already been stung. "Please god let it be a honey bee so It can only get me once!" I'm saying to myself. I unbutton, and unzip my beloved jeans, cram both.. still gloved hands down my undies looking for any foriegn matter to squeeze the life out of before it can inflict more damage to my twig-n-berries. The only problem was I couldn't find anything that didn't belong! By this time my pants had slipped down closer to my knees than my waist. Then I feel the damnable ####### wiggling around again.. It was apparently trying to flee the scene because I distinctly felt wing flappage just above, and behind my knee. "To hell with this, he's not getting me again!" my mind screams as I grab the waist line, jerk the pants to my ankles and go begin to deal death to the trespasser. I spotted the assailant, give him a vicious wallop to the body and watched him fall to the ground still twitching, but obviously in dire straits.
Now being a guy.. and a rather high strung one.. especially in my slightly younger days. I claimed victory in my own way.. It involved alot of high volume cursing, and flipping off of the dead body.. I don't remember exactly what was said.. although I believe the bark on the tree's were blistered when I was finished. I due remember the phrase "Killed yo mo-fo'ing ass, and I'm going to find your family and kill all those mo-fo's too!" being mentioned at the height of the victory dance.. which also included stomping the bug into oblivion.
At this time I decided it may be a good time to get back to some semblence of normal behavior... and pull my pants back up. Unfortunatly... this is also when I noticed the picture-esque setting of a backyard BBQ going on about 25-30 yards to my immediate left. Complete with grandma and grandpa, aunts, uncles and all the grandbabies sitting around the umbrella covered lawn furniture in varying looks of astonishment, and abject horror. Some with spoons halway between the plate, and mouth. Full of what I'm sure was exceptionally good cole slaw, or other such fare that are typical of 4th of July cookouts. Others with cold beer in outstretched hands about to be opened by the cooler while reminiscing of fishing, or hunting trips with close friends, and family.
Mortification doesn't exactly describe the particular emotion I was feeling... but it will do for this sad attempt at story telling.
Needless to say I got the pants back, didn't bother buttong or zipping up.. just get them up enough to get back on the bike and get moving. I didn't look back, or spit apon the intruder as I had been thinking,, I just got out of dodge.
Oh, and the bee... well turns out it was a sweat bee.. but it still hurts to be stung by one at the very edge where normal skin turns into..uhmm.. nut sack skin about 2 inches from your bung hole.
I didn't ride with those jeans anymore.
