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Five wide, we pull our iron steeds into the parking lot of 'Big Bobs Biker Bar & Grill'. One by one, we back 'em, gack 'em and dismount. We are here to meet up with our brothers, socialize, and maybe make a few decisions.
Big Bob's is more than just a favorite hang-out, it's our place. We come together here, as a group, or maybe just a few individuals, it just depends. It's also our starting point, where we roll out from when we decide to go for a ride.
You've probably seen us on the road, maybe you've even mistaken us for some outlaw club, but let me assure you, we are not a club.
We are the 99%
Independent, although we ride together, we are without club affiliations. Made up of family, friends, neighbors, and often our co-workers, we vary in number, and we include our wives and girlfriends.
We answer to none
When we roll we wear no colors, just safety gear, like leathers, boots, and of course, those well known individual accessories that define our community. We love and each appreciate each other's differences, and we will protect our right to be who we choose to be. We are lovers of freedom, and this is our individual faction.
On this day we have gathered to play pool, throw back a few cold-ones and maybe later, we'll decide to take a ride. It's a play-it-by-ear kinda day, and as a group we try to do this at least once every few weekends. No pressure, no agenda, just hanging out together, enjoying each others quirky company.
On the norm, we have a basic plan which we may or may not deviate from, pending on what's happening where, and how many are available to join in. Today we are going to hang out for awhile, but if someone gets a wild hair, or learns of an event going on in our vicinity, suggestion will be made.
Looks like we are the first to arrive
It's early yet, not quite noon on a Saturday, but the bar is already busy. The first to roll in, we scope out our surroundings, order the initial round and start sending messages to the others. Staking our claims on the pool tables, we wait to see who responds.
By the time we've ordered our second beer, we can hear thunder approaching, and wonder if it's one of ours. Several minutes pass before three strangers walk in, we nod and go about our business of cheating each other.
One of the guys just called saying he's stuck at home this weekend working on the dreaded 'honey-do' list. The brother talking to him is calling bullshit, so I take the phone away and shout out the only four words the caller will understand.
Fuck it, just ride
A few minutes later, the thunder rolls again and we quickly realize it's two of our own party rolling up. Within the next hour, several more appear and we begin to discuss options for a possible ride today. Within a thirty mile radius, we are told, there is a benefit going on for a fallen biker, a biker BBQ, and a poker run.
Choices, sweet, let's do this
We could make the first two and miss the run, or we can hit the Poker run and forego the others. As the discussion deepens, the front door opens and a distraught women walks in. She's in such a state, every conversation in the room immediately dies. All eyes are on her as she stumbles up to the bar.
For fuck's sake
One look says it all. Someone has just beat the shit out of the poor thing. She's not a tiny woman, about 5'9 with a few pounds she could stand to lose. Whether or not she's a pretty woman is unknown, her features are swollen and bruised, and no amount of make-up could hide the darkening rainbow she's wearing from the blows she's endured.
My blood is boiling. I don't know her, but I'm pretty damn sure I know her story. I've seen this scene unfold too many times through the years.
Total silence, hard men look pissed right now
She walks up to the barmaid, tears streaming down her battered face, and was immediately handed a stiff drink. The bartender watches her suck it down, fixes her another and then takes her down to the end of the bar for a private talk. It's obvious the two women are friends.
Not one comment has been uttered by the patrons, even though they're being ignored by the bartender. If you look around, you'll see quite the opposite is occurring.
Without a word, an old biker in the tattered t-shirt, drinking cheap draft, smoking generic cigarettes, removes his cap and pulls out his wallet.
Placing a tenner in the cap, he passes it to the stranger beside him. As the cap makes it's rounds, not one soul inside this bar refuses to place an offering in that sweaty old cap.
The bartender calms her friend down enough to leave her alone for a few minutes, quickly turning her attention to her customers. She's taking care of everyone's needs in record time.
While she works, one of the regulars, a female, walks to the end of the bar and invites the troubled woman to step outside and have a smoke. She accepts and we watch quietly as they step out to the beer garden. By now, the cap has been returned to it's owner and the old biker is waving the bartender over.
"Husband, boyfriend, or stranger?" asked the old man.
"Boyfriend." replied the bartender.
"Kids involved?"
"Three, they were all in the room when it happened. He didn't touch the kids though. He went off on her after she finished feeding the baby.”
“Piece of shit.”
“Yes sir, that he is. Apparently, she didn't get his beer fast enough. He told her she would learn that he was too important to have to wait.”
“And the kids?”
“Neighbors for now, they're scared to death. She's afraid to go home."
"Family?"
"None nearby."
"Know where she lives?"
"Three blocks down, apartment complex on the right, apartment 312. She said she was afraid he was going to throw her down the stairs."
"Give her this." he tells the bartender, pushing the money collection across the bar, "Tell her to take the kids to a hotel and not to go back home until tomorrow."
"She has to..."
"No!" replied the old man, "She has to take care of herself and those babies. When she returns the house will be safe. Understood?"
"Yes sir."
"Do it."
The old man turns around and scrutinized the patrons, until eventually, his gaze settles on me. I comprehend his unspoken command, and in turn, I inform the boys there's been a change in plans before I walk over to get the details. With silent nods, they lay down their sticks, suck down their drinks, and head out to their bikes.
Our thunder roars as the troubled woman walks back inside the bar, unaware that several strangers are rolling out, intent on cleaning house.