Update: One night with me is worth 5 grand! Or maybe not, because we didn’t have wild monkey sex the entire weekend Bill was with me. So…one night with me is worth $2500. Oh wait, we usually have cuddle time on Sunday’s, but he doesn’t spend the night then. Someone else can do the numbers, but Bill sent me a copy of the check and the legal talk about why he was getting the money. I’m getting that framed and its going to hang on the wall in the bedroom.
My damages and pain and suffering were also paid much higher than what I thought I should get.
All I really wanted was for my bike and gear to be paid for, but the insurance company tried to play games with me and deny everything. Bill and my junkyard dog have told me that the reason they did this was to try to teach the insurance company to stop fucking with bikers.
I really wanted the stupid bint who hit me to apologize, but that didn’t happen. Lawyer said was expected, if she apologized, it would be admiting fault.
My claim is still open. Now that I have my bike back, I’m afraid to ride. I can ride around the neighborhood, but when I got to the highway, I just couldn’t do it. If I need therapy, those bills will be paid.
Of course, any good therapist would tell me that I was an idiot for riding in the first place. I fully intend to get back on the saddle again. The first time I started my bike, I was shaking so hard that I couldn’t work the choke. Now I can ride at 30 mph, but when I tried to make a right turn to get on the highway, I just couldn’t do it.
17 happy years of riding, and one stupid bint took all the pleasure out of it. Now it seems like a chore, something that I have to do, not something that I want to do.
I just did the math for myself, according to the insurance company, one sexual experience with me is worth $1000. Damn, I’m even better than I thought