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ridden a motorcycle before. For a half second I pondered how I should reply. Obviously, if I said that I had never ridden before, which was the truth, he probably wouldn't let me ride his bike. On the other, if I lied he would likely allow me to borrow his bike. Knowing that I would need a way to get to Mandarin class and work, lying seemed like the best option. So, I told him that I had lots of riding experience.
He handed me the keys and I started shaking with worry. I had no idea what to do. I sat on the bike for about thirty seconds looking at it. I finally called the father over and asked him to give me a few pointers about changing gears. He seemed shocked. I was worried he would realize I'd lied so I told him that bikes in the U.S. were different from the motorcycles here. I explained I just needed a quick overview to get started. He told to me how to change the gears and offered a few suggestions about braking and I was off.
It was about 10 o'clock at night when I rode into the wind letting it blow through my hair, carelessly turning here and there, riding through the maze of the Sam-Min district. In my excitement I overlooked two small but important details. The fist occurred to me when I glanced at the gas gauge, which was on empty--I don't mean bordering on the red zone that warns you that you are almost out of gasoline--it was buried at the bottom of the huge "E". It was at the same moment that I looked around and realized that I had no idea where I was or how to get home. I didn't have any money, identification or a phone with me. Panic set in quickly. I pulled myself together and tried to figure out how I was going to find my way home. Earlier in the day I'd noticed a sizeable park near where I was staying and figured that if I could find the park then I could find the house. Twenty minutes and half a bucket of nervous sweat later I happened upon the park and was on my way home.
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