My Good Deed

by Fish

So, it’s a nice sunny Fall day and I’m out mowing the lawn for the last time before winter, when the youngest of my two kids flags me down and says the most fearsome words in the English language, “Mom wants to talk to you.”

With dread, I shut the tractor down and slowly made my way to the house trying to remember if I had done anything illegal, immoral or stupid lately. The Old Lady was in the kitchen fixing lunch for the kids. “You wanted to talk to me?” She looked up and said, “Yeah, on the way home a few minutes ago I passed a biker on the side of the road. It looked like engine trouble, so I thought you could go check it out.” With a big sigh of relief, I went outside and threw a tool bucket and a jerry can of gas in the truck and headed off to find the biker in trouble.

I had only gone about a mile when I found the troubled biker. Much to my surprise, it turned out to be a chick. A blond chick. A good looking, blond chick. A good looking, young, blond chick. Clearly she must have been wearing her helmet when the old lady had passed by, or else I never would have gotten this mission. Oh well, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

I pulled the truck over and got out to assess the situation. She was still sitting on the bike but it was not running. She was sort of looking at the bike in various ways hoping it would just start up. I walked over and asked if she needed some help. “It just quit running,” she said. “I left the house about a half hour ago and it was running good. Then it started to stall and I couldn’t get it going again.”

“How are you fixed for gas”, I asked. “Oh, I have plenty, I’m not THAT blond”, she replied.

Uh, huh.

I tried the starter, plenty of battery but it wouldn’t catch at all. It was a nicely restored old Softail with a shovelhead motor, electric start, S&S carb. She told me her husband had rebuilt it for her. I set about checking the plug wires, and other possible electrical issues. Then I took a look at the fuel system.

Hmmmmmmm. The petcock was in the reserve position. “Um, just for shits and giggles, can I pop your gas cap?”

“OK”, she said, sounding a bit offended.

So I unscrewed the cap and took a peak, rocking the bike back and forth. Hmmmmm.

“I’ll be right back”, I said. I then went to the truck and returned with the gas can. I poured in all I had, about 3 gallons, and put the cap back on. I put the petcock in the run position and hit the starter button. As expected….VAROOOM!

The look on her face was priceless. “Oh my God!, she said. “If my husband finds out about this I’ll never hear the end of it. I am too stupid to live!”

“Your secret is safe with me,” I said. “Just remember the next time you switch to RESERVE, to switch it back to RUN when you fill up”. She then offered me cash for the gas. I gallantly refused and told her to just pass it along to the next stranded biker she meets. She threw it in gear and with a wave she was on her way. Looked good from the back, too.

I got back in the truck and drove home to return to my lawn mowing chore. I got about 3?4 done when I ran out of gas. Then I remembered I had given the last of it to the blond chick. Ah well, as they say, no good deed ever goes unpunished!

Back to Welcome Page