Just Stop

I fly into Ontario airport this morning, and I really can't tell you what it's like to land in a city in different time zone and walk outside and see your orange KTM 990 adventure right where you think you probably left it. Like...every time I see it, I want to kiss the ground.

So, I hop on the KTM and roll across the sidwalk, leave without paying, and roll into work. This week, we're back in Riverside. Now, I don't even have a map and I don't even plug in my GPS. I've been doing this for so long that there just aren't words.

I roll up to the building where we're supposed to be and park my bike in the motorcycle parking spot, bypassing the arm that keeps other vehicles out.

And now, I'm back at University of California, Riverside.

I go inside, and sit all day, basically. In a little room. Other people filter in. Everyone has been somewhere different over the weekend. You could hardly even guess where everyone went.

After work, I go to my Air BnB. Folow the directions, and I find the place OK, but now I've got some fucking cunt getting down on me. She's telling me that I should have pulled around front instead of the back. That this is all explained in the fucking directions. And I'm like..."Cunt...let me explain something to you. I woke up in a different time zone. I'm twice your age. I make more than anyone you've ever met. I don't need you telling me what a fucking idiot I am. That's not helpful. DO you get it cunt?"

Like...Mother Fucker.

"Did you read the directions that I set up on AirBnB?" She's digging in. Going for the kill.

Cunt, I woke up in Colorado this morning. I set my alarm for 5:30 a.m. (4:30 a.m. PDT). And I got up and flew out here an worked all day in a room full of idiots. And now, I'm driving to a place I've never been before on a motorcycle you could never afford that's been through more countries than you've ever seen.

So...How about you shut the fuck up with your god-damned snarky "did you read the Air BnB instructions" and you tell me where the fuck I need to go to unload my clothes. God Damn It You Lifeless Kunt. There's a reason you're single. You're aware of this, right? I'm not the first one to tell you that you're a raging cunt and that no one would ever want to spend 2 seconds in your presence if they weren't absolutely forced to.


Posted by Rob Kiser on July 24, 2017 at 10:28 PM : Comments (2) | Permalink

How to easily turn off CNN in the nation's airports



Posted by Rob Kiser on July 20, 2017 at 10:11 PM : Comments (1) | Permalink

Return to Pomona

I spent 3 of the last 4 weeks in Oakland, it seems. Jennifer disappeared at some point, and I immediately flew to Arkansas and bought a 2017 Africa Twin. Drove it back - 1,000 miles in 24 hours.

Somehow, I managed to forget that my Tahoe was out at the airport when I came back. So, on Monday morning (a week ago), when I went to get in my Tahoe in the garage, it wasn't there. So, I took the AT out to the airport, and flew to Oakland. So, for a while, I had the AT and the Tahoe at the same airport (DEN).

Jen helped me to retrieve the Tahoe on Saturday.

Meanwhile, the KTM is in the shop CHapparal Motorsports in San Bernardino, CA. It's been in the shop for about a month, while I've been in Northern CA.

So, today, I get up and I fly into Ontario. It's like Groundhog Day. Like, everything just keeps repeating. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

Land at ONT, catch LYFT to San Bernardino. Sadly, Al isn't there. He's my buddy. "Rob's so rich when he write a check, the bank bounces". Hop on the KTM. New tires. New clutch. $2,000.00 down the drain.

Now, I compare the seat to the Honda. There's no comparison. Zero. The KTM seat is 100X softer than the Honda seat. Fuck Honda.

Now, ride the KTM on I-10 West. Just winging it. I'm not sure of the address. The GPS doesn't know what time zone it's in. So, I'm just lane-splitting, heading west on I-10 for Cal Poly Pomona.

Like...the problem is that you get so dried out...just like a shucked corn husk. I don't really care about anything any more. Like...so what if they pay me $1,000.00 a day? What's the point? What difference, at this point, does it make?

I'm rolling west on I-10. And then, I see a sign for Kellogg Drive. That's it. That's the ticket. That's the place I'm looking for. And I exit, and roll onto the campus of Cal Poly Pomona. I couldn't tell you when the last time I was here was. But it wasn't that long ago. Maybe 4-5 weeks?

I roll onto the beautiful sprawling campus. The Jacaranda Trees no longer bloom purple. I do notice that.

I walk into our offices where we normally hold court, but no on is here. Now, I wonder...am I in the wrong city? At the wrong campus? I call John...no...we're here...only we're down stairs this time.

And now, it's not a cool spring temperature. It's a roasting 95 F in the sun. Now, we no longer parade around the campus at lunch exploring the campus and the buildings.

They're having some big meeting in a conference room. I don't even go. I've long ago given up any pretense of concern in attending these big kickoff meetings. I just walk around the building, get some diet coke and sort of try to get the lay of the land.


Posted by Rob Kiser on July 17, 2017 at 3:05 PM : Comments (0) | Permalink