Overheard in the parking lot of that biker bar and grill I’m obviously spending too much time around:
Biker #1: “I know why I’m here, but I don’t know why you are.”
Biker #2: “I know why you’re here, but I don’t know why I am.”
Biker #3: “I don’t give a fuck about what either of you knows. I’m going home.”
The three of them pulled out their key fobs and growled away on their Harleys. A waitress taking a smoking break looked over her shoulder at me.
Waitress: “Soft tails that don’t need kick starting, with orthodontists riding ’em. Of course this country’s gone to hell!”
I nodded like I knew what she was talking about. I was glad the bikers hadn’t seen me smiling, because only God knows what could’ve happened if they’d gotten a look at my teeth.