So...Friday, we haul out the bikes and ride to dinner for some cheap Mexican.
Afterwards, we usually make the LONG LONG ride of 3/4 of a mile to our local hole in the wall bar. I like that place, they have never told us we were too loud, too dirty, hell, not even too drunk. And they put up with MilkMan and his pal David's testosteronal need to throttle their bikes until the gaskets bulge and we choke from the exhaust.
But Friday, we decided we would ride a little, and rode all the way around the corner to this old farts, stinky, tight ass'd karaoke bar that I will not name (YM ECIFFO if you read backwards, you'll know where we were).
So anyway. We had a drink and were catching up with our pals, telling jokes. Most we'd heard before, but that never stops MilkMan or David. And Diana and I, being the good women we are, laughed heartily at every one of them.
THEN...the Karaoke Master Ass with the bad cowboy hat and cheap cologne decided we were being too loud and actually came to our table to tell us so. Said his customers were having a hard time reading the words while we joked.
We QUIETLY paid our tab and proceeded out the door. David decided he needed to whisper in the Karaoke Master Ass's ear, yanno, just to let him know we really thought he was a jerk.
I might have flipped him the bird. Then, he told me to leave and not come back.
HA...I whipped back in the bar and told him he REALLY didn't think I wanted to come back here, did he? Hell, they had to practically BEG me to come to this boring hole in the wall in the first place. PAH!
We then exited the place and laughed in the parking lot about it for a few seconds. Yanno, they make all these places put that handicap ramp up for folks? A motorcycle can back up that ramp to the door, really easily too. And David backed his beloved Rat Bike Shovelhead right up there to the door. Diana politely held the door open as David kicked off the engine and let them know what LOUD really was.
As I looked over my shoulder I could see the people falling out the door choking on the exhaust. I dunno, the noise and exhaust are my favorite things about those old bikes.
And David, it's only immature if you do it twice, so you are safe El Solo Lobo. ;)
10 comments:
I'm still not believing you went to a place called ym eciffo of your own free will. WHAT were you guys thinking? You will never see it written on a bathroom wall, "go to ym eciffo for a good time".
You shoulda got up and sang a little before you left. That would have been pay back in spades. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ha ha ha ha ha ha! I crack myself up.
I wrote your phone number on the wall...so when a twangy asshole calls you, don't thank me, k?
Riding through the tunnels that go underneath the canals here is enough to rob you of your hearing for an hour or two. Somehow the ride is more intense when you add the rumble and the smell.
My philosophy: If one has found an acceptable hole in the wall bar, it is always risky to explore others.
AHAHAHA Nick, I think I totally agree with you.
Helen...I love a good long tunnel.
Bwahahaha! David sounds like my kind of guy.
I think I'd like to hang out with you guys :)
Lori, he does keep us entertained, always.
C'mon Sign!
Sounds like the perfecting ending to a shitty bar!! I think those (as they call it in the land of Norweigiens "Croakie") patrons, take themselves a bit too seriously!!! Good gawd, they are way too much into hearing themselves NOT carry a tune for shit!! You tell David, he's my hero...that boi's got himself a good set of kahunas...just like in the good ol' days!!!
LOL jyflol, David is definitly from the old days....never know what's coming from him.
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