We all sat in wonderment of the crazy day. Just when you thought it was over, it started again.
As I looked around, I saw we were the only ones there. Us, the bartender, and a not-so-good-looking barmaid. Next thing I saw was one of the guys putting the moves on this homely barmaid, before you knew it, she took all of us on in the Mens' bathroom. This was all too much for one day. Then we yelled over to the bartender and told him it was his turn. It was time to split, but not with out leaving with a few bucks. Old Joe reached into the till and took a couple of bucks knowing that we might need some spending money for a few brews down the road.
Off we went again, blasting down Highway 101. We were in our glory. No one to report to, just the road. Than I saw the red lights in my mirror again. Now we were cooked for sure. We pulled over, the men in blue shouted, "Turn those bikes off and stay seated." We did. A lot of things were going through my clouded head. We sat as they called for backup, then they lined us up, asked if there were any weapons.
And of course Roger yells out "Yes," then you could hear "Oh shit," under everyone's breath. We were screwed now. They rushed over to him like they got the FBI`s number one. They frisked him and found nothing. Now they were more pissed off than before.
"Where is the weapon?" one of them shouted. Then it happened, Roger pulled a G.I. Joe toy gun the size of a half dollar out of his shirt pocket. We all laughed out loud. They didn't think that was funny. One of the big cops came over and asked if we were involved with the trouble at the pool hall earlier, and of course we had no idea what they were taking about. So they did the usual ticketing us for high bars and loud pipes. Now the topper, the famous suspect cards were taken. I had so many suspect cards taken I thought of making my own and carrying them with me just to give them out when I got pulled over.
Saturday was finally over. I passed, God only knows where, wakened the next morning by the sound of motorcycle pipes and shouts of "Let's go! I found a great new bar," echoing in my head. It's Sunday, God's day for relaxation...wrong again. Off we went with the cool morning beach air in our face. It felt good and helped the hangover I was suffering from. I could use a cold Bloody Mary or Bloody Beer. Here we go, together again. No cares, just the roar of our V-Twins. All 12 motors sounding like one. Doesn't get any better than this. I was thinking to myself, "Where the hell are we going." All I could see coming up on the road were signs of the pier at the beach. We slid into the underground parking lot, wrong place to park the bikes. There was only one way to get to the Sea View Inn. Then it all became clear to me, the bicycle path, great. This was going to stir up the heat real good. Off we went, 12 crazies on the bicycle path Sunday at the pier. Great place to take the family. And it was crowded, we all looked like we were doing one of those '60s B movies. Doing burnouts on the bike path. Oh well, what's done is done.
People were running every which way when we arrived. Looking back on it, it was funny. We made it to the bar, nowhere to park. Bicycle racks, perfect. There was a whole line of them. The 21s fit in great. In we went, the barkeep was happy to see us, no one in there yet. We ordered up Bloody Beer pitchers to take the edge off last night. Pool games started on all tables. Yes it was a mellow Sunday. Wrong. The almighty blue men came in the bar in a fury, totally freaked out. "How the hell did you guys get down here?" "We rode, how else do you get down here, the sign said Bike Path." They were pissed, they didn't know what to do next, except give the same old ticket for high bars and loud pipes, take the good ole suspect cards... Then one said "Pull out your bikes and walk them out on the bicycle path and do not start them up." Yeah, right. We went 20 feet on the path, fired the motors up, and hauled ass, and again people were going every which way. Well that was it, we found a bar in El Segundo to cool our heels. To us it was just another weekend, one of many.
This is a true story. You could not get away with a weekend like this today.
Who cares, we did it and that is all that matters.
Bob T