A few years back, in the 'pump first, then go in and pay' days, I pulled into a large gas station. Neutral,
engine off, key gas cap, grab hose, flip pump lever and start to fuel. A dirty, hairy apparition appears
in front and walks by muttering something about "...give a guy a chance" as the pump passes
the 3 gallon mark.
I'm topping off when I suddenly feel a heavy weight against my back and pushing up over my helmet.
I grab the front brake as the bike begins to roll forward, keep the live fuel nozzle in the tank and shout,
"Get off, you gotta get off" ( or something like that ) while my left foot desperately fishes for the
sidestand. Sidestand down, the bike starts going over on the right. Right leg straining in agony, I look
down and see he's gotten the passenger peg down and is almost standing on it.
Emanating powerful fumes of body odor and dago red, he leans out, waving his arm forward in a
sweeping motion, and shouts, "Ride on. Ride on."
It all worked out OK. He wasn't a bad guy, and he even got my dollar.
Since that day, I've developed the habit of consciously looking around to survey my surroundings
in parking lots, gas stations and other public places. And I always stop in gear, engine off, sidestand
down and dismount...before I start to fuel.
2002 DL1000 - 70K of joy, so far...
1978 GS1000 - One owner, still putt'n