Our house is currently under construction and we are renting a hall not far from our home, but I stayed in a dorm outside the UST from Monday until Friday. One Saturday morning, I was sleeping late and my father had gotten up very early as most country folk did in these days. He drove to check our store about five miles away. By 9:00 am, he was already on his way back home.
At that time, I was just waking up and getting ready to go into the kitchen and fix myself some breakfast. As I was just about to come in the kitchen, my father burst in and asked, "Paano ka nakabalik kaagad?" I had no idea what he was talking about and told him I'd just gotten out of my bed. He insisted that I had nearly hit his car with my motorcycle about a mile from our house. He was approaching an intersection and a motorcycle exactly like mine --driven by someone he clearly identified as me --made a very fast turn and headed straight into his car.
He insisted it was me and that I had nearly side-swiped him had he not acted fast and hit the side road. Now, lest anyone think, "Oh, it was just a similar motorcycle," I should point out that it was definitely NOT a typical motorcycle I was driving. I drove a modified Suzuki Raider 150 with red paint and Spiderman stickies. There wasn't another like it in the entire area. In addition, my father vehemently insisted it was me behind the wheel.
My mother and I both continued to explain that I had been in bed and the Raider had been parked out in the yard under the old oak tree the whole time. I also pointed out that if it were only a mile from the house and I had been going the opposite direction, I could have not turned around and made it home ahead of him without passing him. He conceded that made sense, but still insisted on checking to see if my motor's engine was warm. To my surprise, it was.
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