Bandit's Cantina - The Series

There’s Never A Dull Moment In The Cantina A blustery storm blew in along the coast of California like the black sheep of waves. Three riders pulled up to the Cantina and dismounted as the wind shifted gears and blew their gloves off their seats. They had ridden to Los Angeles to escape the northern […]

Barbi in the Cantina. The reflected light of the high noon sun filtered through the glass block wall of the Cantina, giving a soothing atmosphere for the afternoon lunch crowd from the harbor. Mandy busied herself polishing and hanging the oversized margarita glasses in the racks above the bar to stifle her nervous energy. “I’ll

Sweat ran down Marko’s forehead in rivulets that collected in his eyebrows before falling into his eyes, making them sting and burn as he worked on his bike in the Cantina Garage. It was mid January, yet a Santa Ana breeze blew hot winds to the coast from the desert. His wrench slipped off the

His boots echoed on the new boardwalk as the entrance grew near. It was an unusually warm New Years eve and the pungent scent of the harbor hung in the quiet fog. The heavy doors of the Cantina were opened wide leaving only the western style swinging gates to fill the space as he slammed

Episode 30 ? Misery Loves Company— The holiday season loomed around the Cantina like a priest standing outside a bar hinting at the evil doings inside. Riders and dock workers were consumed by holiday efforts, family, gift giving and nagging wives. Bandit didn’t mind. He enjoyed the break from the hectic crowds to clean and

A week had passed as calmly as the morning fog burning off the harbor. The Cantina rocked every night. Signs of winter evening chills brought the brothers out in droves. They wanted to party before the misty cold prevented all but the hard-core from riding. Some bikes were headed for teardowns and rebuilds. It was

Nyla squirmed against the hard porcelain surface of the washer as it jiggled violently beneath her. She was aware of the rapists threat to American women as they were constantly covered, analyzed and their courtroom dramas were detailed in the news. John Walsh recently was interviewed on Larry King and warned women of the rapist’s

Picking Up Love In All The Wrong Places Marko closed the Cantina down after the last drunk had moseyed out of the parking lot. A couple of Softail riders were too hammered to straddle their black scoots. Marko slipped them into the Cantina garage and called them a cab. Bandit had a regular account with

When The Stars Ain’t Right Half-hour before last call, Marko roamed the Cantina floor. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, about 6’2″, weighing 215. He was constantly in fighting shape, training and taking stunt work on the side. He had little use for women since he was dumped in his mid-20s. That was enough for

A Cocktail Mix Of Sexual Tension And The Wrong Lines It was a strange off-color night. The Cantina was packed with mostly bikers, a couple of service men, and longshoremen. The night was cool, although summer was lurking around the bend. There was a fog building on the harbor like bad news to a brother

Nyla had poured one after another on a perfect, sun-baked weekend, but Monday was different. A dense fog hung over the harbor in the morning. Marko looked out of his studio addition to the Spanish Cantina and watched the cold mist engulf the harbor like an evil spirit over Salem’s Lot. He remembered that as

It was Friday night at Bandit’s Cantina, the hottest joint in town. The old Spanish style rough stucco building with red tiled roof looked out at the Los Angeles Harbor. The night was a cool, Southern California 60 degrees as two Asian men pulled into the parking lot on the edge of Harbor Boulevard in

Nyla was working furiously behind the bar. Happy hour was in full swing. The Cantina was packed with dockworkers, longshoremen and tugboat crews. There were even a handful of bikers. There weren’t a lot of girls in the bar. The Chinaman had created some of his specialty, Mexican egg rolls and fried won ton instead

Slick Steve rolled south on Avalon, the center of the Wilmington corridor. It was a town that could have been taken for a small city south of the border. It was a mass of Mexican signage and people. He wondered what the hell had hit him. He was confused. He had grown up in a

Tina staggered into one of the restroom stalls and sat on the can panting breathlessly. She had never experienced the touch of a woman. She was stunned. She leaned back against the toilet tank and ran her hands up her silky thighs until she reached her throbbing cunt. She jumped as a forefinger grazed her

Slick Steve hurried to the back of the Cantina through the steaming galley, where the Chinaman was preparing for the dinner crowd. He watched disgustedly as Steve removed his bar apron and threw it into the laundry damper. He knew what Steve was up to and was curious why Bandit hadn’t thrown him out. Steve

It was late afternoon in the Cantina. A quartet of flies circled above some dirty lunch dishes on one of the tables. The slow tempo affected the few customers and the staff behind the bar. Slick Steve glared at the few customers that remained, hoping to hasten their departure by some street level ESP he

Jimbo smiled at Slick Steve like a hungry crocodile. Slick Steve was tall and rangy. His size usually was intimidation enough for most people, but Jimbo wasn’t most people. Jimbo was not only big; years of hard labor at the docks had made him as dangerous as a crazed bull. The only hint that he

Mandy was gently grinding her hips against Nyla’s body while the two stood behind the dark, musty bar, when they heard voices outside. Both blushed as they broke eye contact and returned to their duties. Marko came in the door sighing. “The last one’s in a cab and his bike is locked in the garage.

Marko, who never took a break, watched the last remaining patrons saunter towards the door. A few members of the local ABATE group worked with Bandit to escort or take drunk bikers home. Bandit kept a garage out back for guys who couldn’t ride. There was always a rider or two who were down in

?Jimbo, you?re a sweetheart and I hate to see you break your heart over her.? Nyla tried to consol the big guy. ?I don?t know what to do,? Jimbo groaned mournfully. ?Let me see if I can find her,? she sat another beer in front of Jimbo. Nyla walked over to the waitress station. She

Yeah, Nyla thought, it?s nice when he?s around.?She was supposed to meet Bandit later that evening. ?Hey hon?, could I get a beer?? asked Jimbo, a mountain of a man who’d been sitting in front of Nyla unnoticed. ?Oh Jimbo, I?m so sorry. I was daydreaming.?What?ll you have?? ?Dos Equis, no lime, thanks.? ?Coming right

????????The Chinaman walked through the swinging doors of the kitchen, surveying the crowd. ?The calm hum of conversation meant that he could take a break. ?He sauntered over to the end of the bar. ?By the time he got there, Nyla had poured him a mug of hot water for his green tea. ?????????The pace,

By NuttBoy ????????Two days passed. The hubbub of the last few nights had died down. ?The normal routine seemed to settle in as Nyla scanned the incoming evening crowd. None of the few bikers that were there were wearing colors. ?The longshoremen had had their fill and left to return to the unhappy marriages and