I'd made arrangements with my ex to use her garage for a major overhaul of my GS. Part of the deal included the use of her bike so I could get there and back. I was watching a snowstorm all afternoon, and when it was about 1.5 hours out, I left for home. I live ~30 minutes away, so the extra hour gave me a nice cushion in case the forecast was wrong or I ran into trouble.
And I ran into trouble. I'd stopped on the way for what was supposed to be a very quick moment at Wal-Mart to get some degreaser for the next day. While I was there, I'd somehow lost control of the key to her bike (and my apartment, I had them clipped together) and spent the next two hours frantically searching the store for them. Eventually, they were found under a shelf.
And that puts me riding home at night during the first winter storm of the year. I made it about 1/2 way home through whiteout conditions when I slid on a patch of ice approaching an intersection. The bike went down on its left side and spun twice, with me sliding along behind. I wasn't injured at all, I was going maybe 25mph and all my roadsurfing was on snow and ice. I picked up the bike and stashed it in the yard of the guy who witnessed it - he was on his porch, having a smoke. He offered to call the cops and EMTs for me, I declined. The damage was limited to a broken mirror, and my 'stitch had prevented me from even being bruised.
Riding the rest of the way back to my apartment seemed like a very poor idea given the conditions, so I called for a ride. Except my go-to rescuers weren't home at the time and not expected for over an hour. With that in mind, I took Shanks' Pony the mile and a half to a pub in town and had dinner in the warm and dry while I waited.
The text message to my ex was very simple: I owe you a mirror. Call me. When she did, her reaction was first concern that I was okay and then annoyance that I slid on the left side. Why couldn't I have slid on the right side, thats the side with all the crash damage!