It was spring of not-so-long-ago and Ashley had finally started riding her own motorcycle. While I took my time warming up my faithful carburettor motorcycle, she fired up her new fuel-injected little machine and took off on me.
Now, you need to understand, whenever my girlfriend has taken off on me on a bike, bad things have happened. Like the time I told her to take things slowly around the parking lot. She gave me the "yeah yeah" and rolled her eyes. Then she crashed my first bike across the asphalt. I digress...
I sped off after her and before you know it we were riding around the airport. It was her first time leading and a plane was landing up above, so close over our heads it seemed like we were a wheelie away from touching it. Naturally Ashley was a bit in awe. What snapped her out of it was my voice screaming in her helmet intercom system "YOU'RE RUNNING A RED LIGHT!"
She hammered the brakes hard and there was smoke coming up from her tires for a good 20 feet and even after she stopped, in the middle of the intersection, panicked and embarased. Could've lost her too many times, sure am glad she's stuck around.