busy day

You wish for summer days like today. Sunny, not scorching. Breezy, not too windy. Skies blue for miles. The biker brothers were out and I was so excited about house hunting I didn't even care I wasn't on one. I picked up Melissa, grabbed some Starbucks, and met my realtor. She had a stack of MLS sheets so we hopped into her SUV and drove toward historic Oklahoma City. Since I'm the prospective buyer, I took the navigators' seat.
We exited the highway and stopped at the red light on the top of the ramp. When the light turned green we pulled out to make the left turn. I didn't even feel it...just heard the THUMP and saw dark debris scatter over the road to the right. That's when I saw the unmistakable shape of a motorcycle spinning, sliding across the pavement down the cross street. The pile of metal, leather, and the helmetless head came to a stop 150 feet away long after our SUV mountain ceased moving.
I noted that the poor biker was able to move and there was a remarkable lack of blood when I heard Melissa say how is 911 busy? All I could think was Where did that bike come from? Our light was green so they must have run the red light? Why was that idiot not wearing a helmet?
I felt so bad for my realtor. At least the rider was moving. The accident could have been so much worse. The cops had few questions and Melissa and I were the only witnesses who hadn't left the scene. Everybody else was honking angrily at their long weekend commute stalled by emergency vehicles blocking the intersection.There was no question of fault: our light was green and the bike hit us. But the nice guys leave the scene last, I guess.
SUVs may be gas guzzlers, but the oversized "cage" certainly keeps its passengers safe.
The house hunting is rather anticlimactic after that, I suppose...and maybe I won't put a bike into that detached garage just yet...