before I realize what I’ve done, I’m standing in the
main room with half a dozen biker men staring directly at me.
Fuck.
Casting my eyes around the room, I recognize some of the
faces from earlier today but there are a couple of new ones too. Not one
single biker utters a sound. Not one of them smiles.
In fact they all look just a little bit angry.
Scaaaaaary.
I consider my alternatives and ponder backing slowly through
the door so as not to startle anyone and perhaps cause some sort of biker
display of… whatever it is that bikers do when they display their bad-ass-iness.
Hoping that Jake would not have left me alone next to a room
full of … baddies … that were worth worrying about, I clear my throat and
announce, “I’m looking for Jake.”
A huge man with a bald, tattooed head and a long black curly
beard smiles at me. He’s got a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth and he’s
missing a couple of teeth. I almost physically recoil in horror at his mouth
but hold my ground because I realize he is smiling.
An improvement on the general mood in the room.
I think.
“He’s not here sugar, can I help?” He asks in a scratchy
voice that sounds like he’s smoked about two thousand packets of smokes too
many. As he speaks I watch mesmerized as his cigarette bounces on his lips,
untouched by his hands.
“Um…” I hesitate unsure what to do. Deciding that I only
need one small piece of information to get me headed back out to the shopfront
and impending shopping bliss, I continue. “What’s the mailing address here?”
“Jake and Zane’s Harley Shop, Ridge Creek,” bald guy
announces still not touching his cigarette. I watch as it bobs along to each
word and decide it’s a God given skill to be able to talk without removing your
cigarette from your mouth. Then I decide that Jake and Zane’s business naming
skills are just as bad as their product display skills.
“Um… does it have a street number?”
“Fucked if I know,” bald guy announces looking confused.
“Anyone else know?” He asks helpfully as his eyes scan the room. This sets of
a series of mutterings and grunts that eventually bring the group to a
consensus that no one does.
“Shit,” I mutter to myself as I reconsider my shopping
spree. I can’t order anything online if I don’t have a delivery address.
Racking my brain for ideas on how to find the street address for ‘Jake and
Zane’s Harley Shop’, I have another idea.
“Do they have website?” I ask hopefully.
This question meets complete silence and a room full of
stunned stares. Bald guy grins at me and finally using his hand, he snatches
his cigarette out of his mouth. Throwing it in a gutter ashtray below him, he
throws his head back and roars with laughter . And when I say
roars, I mean roars. As in as loud as one badass lion telling another
badass lion to get ye gone before I rip your heart out.
Feeling my mouth drop open in shock, I watch as the entire
room bursts into gut-wrenching laughter with plenty of fist pounding on benches
and tables as well.
Listening to them all laugh their asses off, I wait for a slight
dulling of the noise levels before clearing my throat. In as loud a voice as I
can I muster I announce, “I’ll take that as a no then.”
With laughter still echoing about the room, I decide to give
up. It is but half a second after I turn to exit back the way I have come that
the room falls silent. All laughter ends and I swear that if one were to do
so, they would hear a pin drop.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as the eerie
silence falls on the room. I can almost feel waves of some huge dark force
smashing through the room. A familiar deep, gravelly voice breaks the
silence. “Who the fuck said what and who do I have to beat shit out of?”
Semi-relieved that I’ve found Jake, I delay my departure and
turn back to the room. Jake is standing in the doorway at the other
main room with half a dozen biker men staring directly at me.
Fuck.
Casting my eyes around the room, I recognize some of the
faces from earlier today but there are a couple of new ones too. Not one
single biker utters a sound. Not one of them smiles.
In fact they all look just a little bit angry.
Scaaaaaary.
I consider my alternatives and ponder backing slowly through
the door so as not to startle anyone and perhaps cause some sort of biker
display of… whatever it is that bikers do when they display their bad-ass-iness.
Hoping that Jake would not have left me alone next to a room
full of … baddies … that were worth worrying about, I clear my throat and
announce, “I’m looking for Jake.”
A huge man with a bald, tattooed head and a long black curly
beard smiles at me. He’s got a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth and he’s
missing a couple of teeth. I almost physically recoil in horror at his mouth
but hold my ground because I realize he is smiling.
An improvement on the general mood in the room.
I think.
“He’s not here sugar, can I help?” He asks in a scratchy
voice that sounds like he’s smoked about two thousand packets of smokes too
many. As he speaks I watch mesmerized as his cigarette bounces on his lips,
untouched by his hands.
“Um…” I hesitate unsure what to do. Deciding that I only
need one small piece of information to get me headed back out to the shopfront
and impending shopping bliss, I continue. “What’s the mailing address here?”
“Jake and Zane’s Harley Shop, Ridge Creek,” bald guy
announces still not touching his cigarette. I watch as it bobs along to each
word and decide it’s a God given skill to be able to talk without removing your
cigarette from your mouth. Then I decide that Jake and Zane’s business naming
skills are just as bad as their product display skills.
“Um… does it have a street number?”
“Fucked if I know,” bald guy announces looking confused.
“Anyone else know?” He asks helpfully as his eyes scan the room. This sets of
a series of mutterings and grunts that eventually bring the group to a
consensus that no one does.
“Shit,” I mutter to myself as I reconsider my shopping
spree. I can’t order anything online if I don’t have a delivery address.
Racking my brain for ideas on how to find the street address for ‘Jake and
Zane’s Harley Shop’, I have another idea.
“Do they have website?” I ask hopefully.
This question meets complete silence and a room full of
stunned stares. Bald guy grins at me and finally using his hand, he snatches
his cigarette out of his mouth. Throwing it in a gutter ashtray below him, he
throws his head back and roars with laughter . And when I say
roars, I mean roars. As in as loud as one badass lion telling another
badass lion to get ye gone before I rip your heart out.
Feeling my mouth drop open in shock, I watch as the entire
room bursts into gut-wrenching laughter with plenty of fist pounding on benches
and tables as well.
Listening to them all laugh their asses off, I wait for a slight
dulling of the noise levels before clearing my throat. In as loud a voice as I
can I muster I announce, “I’ll take that as a no then.”
With laughter still echoing about the room, I decide to give
up. It is but half a second after I turn to exit back the way I have come that
the room falls silent. All laughter ends and I swear that if one were to do
so, they would hear a pin drop.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as the eerie
silence falls on the room. I can almost feel waves of some huge dark force
smashing through the room. A familiar deep, gravelly voice breaks the
silence. “Who the fuck said what and who do I have to beat shit out of?”
Semi-relieved that I’ve found Jake, I delay my departure and
turn back to the room. Jake is standing in the doorway at the other
Similar Books
