I can tell you that because I’m a wolf and we get a circular every month from the National Safety Council.
“What are you doing out here, Mr. Marinville? Gosh! I thought you lived back East!”
“Well, I do, but—”
“And this is no kind of transportation for a . . . a . . . well, I’ve got to say it: for a national resource. Why, do you realize what the ratio of drivers-to-accidents on motorcycles is? Computed on a road-hours basis? I can tell you that because I’m a wolf and we get a circular every month from the National Safety Council. It’s one accident per four hundred and sixty drivers per day. That sounds good, I know, until you consider the ratio of drivers-to-accidents on passenger vehicles. That’s one in twenty-seven thousand per day. That’s some big difference. It makes you think, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” Thinking, Did he say something about being a wolf, did I hear that? “Those statistics are pretty . . . pretty . . .” Pretty what? Come on, Marinville, get it together. If you can spend an hour with a hostile bitch from Ms. magazine and still not take a drink, surely you can deal with this guy. He’s only trying to show his concern for you, after all. “They’re pretty impressive,” he finished.
