I had my Majesty 125 souped-up to run a little faster. Each time I took it in for a service I’d get another part replaced, until, after about 18 months, there wasn’t much more I could do apart from upgrading my newly replaced parts. Used to be able to run it comfortably at around 115-125kph, although it’d scare the crap out of “the company” riding on the back.
One night I was flying along HsinHai Road at about 125kph, when, from outa nowhere, a policeman jumped from a bush(?) just ahead of me, waving his little glowing orange stick quite frantically in an effort to make me stop. Well, it scared the utter crap out of me, and I jammed on the brakes with a reflex action, coming to a stop about two metres past the rather nervous officer… fortunately he had enough common sense to jump out of the way while I went careening past.
My heart was racing at about as many revs as the bike had been half a minute earlier, when he approached me screaming something like “I can’t believe what you just did” in Chinese.
Realising the urgency of the situation, I calmed down pretty quickly, and, while removing my helmet, I turned to him and smiled (I was completely farked, so what else could I do?). After greeting him with a “hi, howzit goin?” he stopped, looked at me carefully before slowly gathering a smile in return. But, it quickly changed from one of those “ooooh, waiguoren…” smiles, to one a wry “mate, I know you know you’ve just farked up, and I know you know I can’t speak any bloody English, but if I catch you out then you’re buggered” kind of smiles.
He asked me a few simple questions in Chinese and I had to look pretty stupid while pretending to not understand anything, but I managed to reply with my worst possible accent “woe boo dang”. He scratched his head and paused for a moment, before mustering his best broken English to say, “ni… ah, you… qi tai fast… qi tai fast”, while at the same time offering his best Biaggio-motorbike-racer-driving-too-fast-gesture (hands frantically revving an invisible throttle). I tried my best to look even more stupid as he repeated the phrase while playing charades with me.
Eventually, I gave a surprised “Ooooooooh… you mean I drive too fast?”, while pointing at my bike. That seemed to excite him and I think he might have actually danced a little before repeating my phrase, “dui, you drive too fast”. So I gave him a nonplussed, friendly smile, and said to him, “ok… well I’ll drive slow”, adding the “thumbs up” sign for extra (“no worries, mate”) effect. He looked a little surprised, but then gave me another one of those “I know you know” kind of smiles before replying, “ok…”, and so I drove away at a much more respectable speed of about 95kph (well, I was entering a built-up area)…
Then there was a time when I was travelling along an old, straight road on the way to FuLong Beach. I was able to clock a little over 130kph, but that was pretty much flat out.
Each time I got the bike serviced, my mechanic would have a little laugh about one of the burnt-out parts he found in my bike. Then, about a month ago, I had a problem with the transmission. Took it in for a bit of a goosey-gander, and as the mechanic removed the engine plate, my partly molten clutch fell out, in about 25 pieces… Also, the piston’s in a bit of a bad state. At most, it’s got a year left in it, and that’s only if I can keep the speed down to legal limits and am prepared to put up with a bit of oil leakage and noise…
Sadly, it seems my hooning days are over. The Majesty is now referred to as “The Blue Whale”. I’m a slower driver, and definitely safer, too. Crime doesn’t pay, 'coz the replacement parts are way too expensive…
The Big Babou :?
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Sorry, I’m being mean 
