I woke up about, maybe five minutes before my shift started? and had the *most bizarre* walk of shame I have ever experienced, where I had to get walk across the room (which at this point was full of customers who were *also* hiding from the rain) and go to the back room to put on my work uniform.
My boss saw me and said “I felt kind of bad seeing you sleeping there. You looked like you were homeless. ”
to which I replied
“FUNNY YOU SHOULD SAY THAT.”
And then I explained how I had spent my night.
So. *That* was pretty awesome.
I managed to get through the first half of my shift, but I was working a split. So. After finishing four hours, I had a three hour break, and then got to come back for another two and a half hours.
I got off work, and just wanted to go the fuck home.
I had my keys, and I just wanted to get my bike home, and be able to *open my fucking door*.
So, I went home, and (rather inevitably) fell asleep.
The thing is, I’m a notoriously *light* sleeper. I wake up at *everything*.
Except for that day, when I distinctly did not wake up to my alarm.
I woke up about 2 minutes after I should have been starting my shift.
So, I got on my bike and booked it back down to the coffeeshop.
My boss was walking through the parking lot when I got there. He saw me and was just like ‘You fall asleep?’ and I was just like. ‘..Yeah.’
At this point, I should mention that while I had remembered to charge my mobile, in my hurry to leave the apartment, I left it on my bed. Fully charged, and extremely helpful.
Right next to my bag, which I had deemed ‘Still To Wet’.
Anyway. So, I got through my final few hours of work and just wanted to be done.
I had visions of calling up some friends and hitting up some happy hour specials, because, at that point, I felt like I fucking deserved them.
I go to leave.
Only to realize that, once again, I cannot find my keys.
Because, again, I do not have my bag, with all of its handy pockets for keeping things where I can find them.
I search my work uniform, I search the office.
Finally, one of my co-workers says ‘Have you checked you motorcycle?’
I go out.
My keys are in my bike.
Which is now incredibly dead.
Because not only did I leave the keys in my bike, I left the fucking lights on.
Another one of my coworkers had just arrived with her boyfriend, who happened to park right next to my bike, and have a pair of jumper-cables in their car.
We then spent the next two hours trying to get my battery to take a charge.
We failed.
However, I have the best co-workers *ever*. So, they took me to a shop that charged batteries for free, made plans to help me put in back in the next day.
Then they kidnapped me and took me out for dinner.
They then dropped me off at my house (where they watched me actually get in through the door before driving off) and I just went straight to bed.
Sometimes it seems like the best option.
foxfinding 
Oh man, we’ve all been there. Walking out to find your keys in the bike is bad. I very purposely put my bike keys on a separate key ring from my home keys. Worse case, bike gets taken and I still can get into my house.
My best bike problem was forgetting to turn the gas on on the bike, getting a mile down the road (when the carburetor ran out of the gas from the day before) and it died… You think not knowing about the reserve tank is bad? There’s gas in the tank! Why won’t it turn on? How about another rider walking over and turning your gas from “off” to “on”…
Or the walk of shame I had to do when I dumped my bike in a corner in the middle of downtown Seattle and had to push my bike up the sidewalk because the engine flooded when the bike tipped over. This was during rush hour with tons of people leaving work. At least I had my helmet on and could put down the face shield to hide.
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Oh man. I’ve managed to never flood the engine (which is so good, because Texas roads are *not* friendly. Also, I have a clear face shield, and therefore would not be able to hide my shame. :P)
I sort of feel very similarly about the time I didn’t know how to switch to my reserve tank, and it took me flagging down a dude and a state patrolman to get myself to the nearest gas station.
Bikes: You look like a total bad-ass, unless you look absolutely like you don’t know what you’re doing.
There is apparently *no* in-between.
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