I was talking to my “sister” (by choice, not blood) and she told me “You need to write some of your stories down!” And she’s right. Between the meds I take and the fibro I tend to forget things. So I figured why not?
I used to work in a bar down in Louisiana. Now this wasn’t your run of the mill bar, no Sir. It was a biker bar. I shall not tell you the name of it because, well, I’m not stupid.
One night this woman shows up on a powder pink Harley. Nothing wrong with that, right? Unless you count the bright, shiny training wheels. Don’t believe me? Go to the Harley Davidson web site and do a search for training wheels. Yeah…
Well, needless to say the bikers were not thrilled at this.obvious weekend warrior and showed their displeasure.
I’m sorry, sister, that’s all I remember about that story. The real story is about what happened next…
When I told my sister that story she went on a week long diatribe about Harley Davidson daring to put out training wheels. And there’s nothing like a Southern woman having a hissy fit, let me tell you. She even got on their website so she could see those things for herself. I worried for her health there for a little while, she got so worked up! She was spittin mad.
She was threatening to burn down the Harley plant that manufactured them. She was threatening to call up a few people she knew to do it for her. She was going to email Denis Leary and Ron White and tell them all about this disaster.
I will admit I was laughing my ass off this entire time. Her outrage was so real, so genuine that I couldn’t help myself. She was livid. She was so flustered she was spitting mad. I haven’t laughed like that in years.
To this day if you mention training wheels and Harley in the same sentence she STILL goes off! (I have been known to do this on occassion just for fun hehe!)
So, that’s a story from the old days. The next time I talk to her I’ll have her remind me of what happened. Because…yea fibro and neurontin!