by K.Randall Ball with illustrations by Jon Towle and George Fleming
The Cantina bustled and Bandit kept the holiday tunes blasting while he stared at his budget sheet. It didn’t look good. The positive cash flow from the Sturgis Rally dwindled. He knew his time in Los Angeles waned and 2022 would be a turning point.
He put on a smiling Xmas face and walked down the stairs to the dining room. Most huddled together over their presents. Brothers discussed bike modifications and upcoming projects.
Marko came out from behind bar and nudged Bandit. “Looking good?” Marko said and then steered Bandit’s gaze to Clay, his thinning head of sandy-blonde hair resting against the polish bar top.
Clay was a too-regular. He started drinking early and didn’t stop. His poison Corona beers held him in place between piss and smoke breaks.
A friendly, helpful sort he wanted to assist folks and started to rebuild outboard motors and handled dinghy repairs. Never said a bad thing about anyone.
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