My 2-wheel fiasco

My tingly finger got me thinking about my motorcycle accidents. Yes, there were two.

I think I was 19 or 20. I decided to get a motorcycle. I found a used Yamaha 750 Special.
I got my permit, which allowed me to ride so long as I was with somebody who had a license. My friend, Lenny, had been riding since he was a toddler.
Shortly after I got it, Lenny and I took the front brake off to fix the caliper. I needed to get a part for it, but the back brake still worked. I remember asking Lenny if it was still safe to ride with just the back brake, and he responded, "I'd ride it all day".
That night, I rode to downtown Binghamton to meet a bunch of my friends at a bar.
As I went to turn into the parking lot, I applied the front brake and, of course, found nothing there. I hit the ramp-curb-entrance too fast, slamming me down into the handlebars and causing me to hit the throttle harder. I flew into the parking lot at about 20-25 mph.
I hit one of those big cement boxes with trees growing out of them.
I flew over the handlebars in an extended 360. Unfortunately, my pinky finger got caught between the clutch and the handlebar and snapped.
Completing my 360 found me hitting a street sign, primarily with my face and right thigh. Fortunately, I was wearing a full-face helmet. The front of my helmet was cracked and I had a huge bruise on my thigh.
When I stood up, I was pissed about my bike. There was a guy standing on the corner, barely able to stand, from laughing at me. I stormed over to him, all ready to whip his ass, not realizing that my left hand was covered with blood and a bone was poking out.
When I got to him, I remember him saying, "I'm sorry, man, but that was the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen."
I had to laugh too.
As I walked to the bar, I discovered my hand. When I went in, I told my friends that somebody had to take me to the hospital. They were all drunk, and literally drew straws to determine who had to take me. Chris Chesmore got the short one.
We walked by my bike on the way to his car. I picked it up and started pushing it to a parking spot, so the cops wouldn't get wise to it. Chris tried to stop me, telling me that I was in shock. I explained to him that I was illegal.
When we got to the ER, the attendant asked me how I broke the finger.

ME: It was a motorcycle accident
HER: I see.
ME: I mean, I was working on my motorcycle in my garage, and it fell over and landed on my finger.
HER: Oh that's different. That's not considered a vehicular incident.

Since the bone was broken at an angle, I got two pins put into it while it healed. The doctor told me they had to do that, or it would heal crooked.
I endured the pins for a month or so, and Doc? It still turned out crooked.

That's my left hand. I also got the tip of my right index finger cut off and sewn back on, but that's another story.