It is any mid-week evening. Across our great country, we rush home fromwork, clean up and don our best looking riding clothes. We touch up thechrome grab mama and climb aboard. All is smiles because we are going out toour favorite watering hole (or two) for bike night.
We know hundreds of fellow bikers will be there; some, we see daily, otherswe only see on Bike Night. Every make and model will be leaning on the kickstand in the “bikes only” parking area. Bikers and interested spectatorswill be milling around, some discussing the latest engine upgrade, piece ofchrome, paintjob or whatever else grabs their eyes or fancy. Most often along neck is firmly in hand.
The biker babes are always well represented; scant tops, no bra, jeans andboots, ya got to love it. Everyone is having a few drinks, socializing andchilling with our favorite kind of people, bikers. The boys know they willprobably see a tit shot or two before the night is done. The loner at theend of the bar is trying to get lucky with that little woman down the way.He buys her drinks and, gets himself one too. The band is sounding good!
Oh hell, my favorite place is running a “Bike Night” special. Five centwings and one dollar long necks. I'll get two at a time to save the littlewaitress leg work besides; it takes her way to long to get around to mytable. This place needs to hire more help! But, since the beers are socheap, I might as well get a shot to go with it. Hey, there's so and so andthe guys. “Come on over here, I'll buy you a shot.”
The owner of the establishment is working the crowd. He wants to make sureeveryone is having a good time and buying his booze. A little girl in shortshorts and halter top is carrying a tray of jello shooters peddling them toevery biker who meets her eye. She is making a killing. Business is good,bikers are having fun, “We like it!”
The night is late and we go to climb on our bikes to carry our ass home. Weknow we have had too much to drink to ride safely but, we're bikers. We'llbe fine. As we are crossing the “Bikes only” parking area, I stop and help afellow biker pick his machine up off the pavement because he dumped ittrying to exit. No damage, we're good. There he goes. I get to my bike,stand her up, hit the switches and she fires right up. Love that sound!Mama climbs on and I blast off with less than half of the capacity to avoida crash than when I started the evening.
I am lucky. I made it home but my billfold is empty. The establishment ownerfeels good because it was a GOOD night. It was such a good night that he wasinterviewed by the local television and newspaper media about his “magicalplan” to bring business back to my favorite place. He speaks of hiscommitment to bikers and his support of their cause.
Before I climb on mybike to go to work, I turn on the news to get the local scoop. I hear aboutyet another motorcyclist(s) killed in a wreck. No names are given pendingnotification of next of kin. Later that day I hear on the radio that John Q.Biker was the casualty. Emptiness comes into my stomach and I feel nauseas.John Q. is my buddy that I drank with last night.
Many of us need to stop talking out both sides of our mouth. On one hand weare all about our biker rights, safety and awareness and our basic freedoms.On the other we play into the hands of money grabbing business people bysupporting their bike nights at the expense of our very lives. We, the BikerNation, must police ourselves and thereby protect our way of life. If we donot awake to that call, we hand our Liberty to every safety nanny who everthought of “saving a life”.
Ride safe my brothers and sisters!
–by Renegade
Biker Republic
–from Rogue
Sturgis Freedom Fighters
Motorcycle Hall Of Fame Member 2005
www.bikerrogue.com
There’s another side to this nasty coin. No brother needs to ride home drunk. There’s cabs, pick-ups, coffee shops, friend, and maybe real true brothers who won’t let riders ride drunk.
We make a point to have a garage attached to our make-believe Bandit’s Cantina. If we ever open one for real, it will have a garage to store bikes, when a rider needs to take a cab home. Yep, there’s a flip side. Maybe more bar owners need a secure shed or garage to save customers’ lives with.–Bandit
