The cross-section of people at this particular party fascinated me. There were the hardcore bikers, of course, from the grizzled lifetime Harley guys to the young'uns sporting fresh tats. But as we wandered deeper into the denizens of the Dublin Mob underworld, we discovered friends of the Irish boys, friends of the bands involved, people there purely for the music, and a handful of folks who caught sight of the grinning DMC skull from the street and just had to see what was going on. People brought their kids. Jeans and tank tops mixed in nicely with leathers and bandannas. Shaved heads and pompadours, baseball caps and basketball jerseys-all kinds of people were there.
We made a lot of friends in the bathroom lines and weaving in and out of the crowd watching the raffle results. Bags of Dublin Mob goodies were given away to winners holding the lucky ticket stubs. Generally whenever a number was called out a cheer went up from somewhere, signaling victory.
("Just shout," Jason told me. "If you win a motorcycle, I'll take it."
"Over my dead body," I said. "If I win a bike, I'm keeping it."
"You have nowhere to put one," Brittany said. "I'll keep the bike.")
While loitering around, I snapped a few pictures of a familiar-looking chopper with a shotgun as a shift. How could I not? It's a gun on a bike!
We managed to track down Shannon McKnight. He's the lead perpetrator here at Dublin Mob, and we had to tail him back and forth across the lot several times before we could catch him for a few minutes. Cheerful and informative, he was happy to give us a quick tour of the shop and a rundown of the event, now in its third year. It's grown substantially since kicking off in 2005 as a sort of group barbecue/music party. Shannon is very much involved in the music scene and knows a few bands; groups like the Whiskey Dicks and Stilettos are upbeat but mellow. With all the alcohol around, it's probably best not to have crazy rock bands-that kind of music can make people hyper.