Bike Nights-The Flip Side
Posted by: RenegadeOriginally posted in the summer of 2007.
It is any mid-week evening. Across our great country, we rush home from work, clean up and don our best looking riding clothes. We touch up the chrome grab mama and climb aboard. All is smiles because we are going out to our favorite watering hole (or two) for bike night.
We know hundreds of fellow bikers will be there; some, we see daily, others we only see on Bike Night. Every make and model will be leaning on the kick stand in the “bikes only” parking area. Bikers and interested spectators will be milling around, some discussing the latest engine upgrade, piece of chrome, paintjob or whatever else grabs their eyes or fancy. Most often a long neck is firmly in hand.
The biker babes are always well represented; scant tops, no bra, jeans and boots, ya got to love it. Everyone is having a few drinks, socializing and chilling with our favorite kind of people, bikers. The boys know they will probably see a tit shot or two before the night is done. The loner at the end of the bar is trying to get lucky with that little woman down the bar. 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 cent wings and one dollar long necks. I’ll get two at a time to save the little waitress leg work besides; it takes her way to long to get around to my table. This place needs to hire more help! But, since the beers are so cheap, I might as well get a shot to go with it. Hey, there’s so and so and the guys. “Come on over here, I’ll buy you a shot.”
The owner of the establishment is working the crowd. He wants to make sure everyone is having a good time and buying his booze. A little girl in short shorts and halter top is carrying a tray of jello shooters peddling them to every 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. We know we have had too much to drink to ride safely but, we’re bikers. We’ll be fine. As we are crossing the “Bikes only” parking area, I stop and help a fellow biker pick his machine up off the pavement because he dumped it trying 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 avoid a crash than when I started the evening.
I am lucky. I made it home but my billfold is empty. The establishment owner feels good because it was a GOOD night. It was such a good night that he was interviewed by the local television and newspaper media about his “magical plan” to bring business back to my favorite place. He speaks of his commitment to bikers and his support of their cause.
Before I climb on my bike to go to work, I turn on the news to get the local scoop. I hear about yet another motorcyclist(s) killed in a wreck. No names are given pending notification 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 of both sides of our mouth. On one hand we are 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 by supporting their bike nights at the expense of our very lives. We, the Biker Nation, must police ourselves and thereby protect our way of life. If we do not awake to that call, we hand our Liberty to every safety nanny who ever thought of “saving a life”.
Ride safe my brothers and sisters!
Renegade
