7/3

I rode with an outlaw motorcycle club again yesterday. It had been a while since my last run with such characters, and I almost forgot what a rush it is.

90 mph, blasting in the breakdown lane, white-lining vehicles (aka, cruising between two lanes of traffic), weaving, screaming, frightening everyone and everything. Including ourselves.

I then stopped at the club's joint to see the improvements made there. A jacuzzi and a fatty horseshoe bar with a nice brass rail. Then we went to the cycle chop shop, and I made a steel bracket for a guy's bike.

The weather was splendid. Noise in the streets. Puerto Rican girls facing off against a gaggle of overweight black chicks. Almost surreal. Me, coming straight from work in a pair of $110 slacks and a Brooks Brothers button-down, and a handful of greasy don't-give-a-fucks hooting and hollering at the down-trodden citizenry. Out of place in the throes of the ghetto, but belonging. Feeling safe.

I told the brothers to tell anyone who asked that I was their lawyer. This, to them, was about the funniest fucking thing they'd ever heard.

"You should come around more, man," my comrade said, just after I told a tweaked-out junkie to stick his hand in his ass to get the dollar he asked for.

"Why?" I inquired. "You want an insolent outlaw genius in your dirty midst?"

"Man," he replied with a roar of laughter, "I don't know what the fuck you just said, but those clean clothes don't make you less dirty, motherfucker."

"Fuck yeah," another said. "We need a fucking genius."

Surprised that my initial complacency was so well received - after all, a REAL genius would be home reading - I got to thinking:

They know I'm dirty? In those few moments, the guys who hadn't known me before KNEW that behind the diplomas and career and home and hearth I AM a piece of shit?

Wow. Are we all this transparent?

Moreover, now that my cover is blown, can I reconcile who I have become with whom I was destined to be? Can I be Dr. Outlaw? Should I be? Or should I just accept that my destiny is, after all, Dr. Bland and press onward?

Who ARE we?

So where were you up to trouble this time. By your descriptions, I'd say Waterbury, near KFC, right?

No, Vercetti. Nowhere near KFC.

And I am not "up to trouble," although you might want to reconsider your demand that the outlaw MC cabal come and try to slit your throat. You simply never know who's listening to you, Vercetti.

Kentucky Fried Chicken?

Yes, that is what the boy is saying...but this is a bit of esoterica, as opposed to a disguised insult to me.

You can take the man out of the dirt, but you can't take the dirt out of the man.

I really want a bike, nothing too large, but not too small, maybe a 400. But god damn insurance will be too high 'cause i'm gonna be a poor student again in September.

I will not allow you to ride a 400 cc bike. 650, minimum. You're an adult, aren't you?

How you been, mate?

It was not an insult, I expected it in the KFC area near San Marino's place.

Haha, I doubt I could handle a 650. 400 seems reasonable enough. Alas, insurance is too much for my blood. Probably be more than the actual bike itself.

Things are good, read my thread "Nearly time to grow up" for a present synopsis.

Didn't I tell you? I forgot how to read.

I KNOW it wasn't an insult, but this Double-J character does not.

Regardless...no, not down by San Marino's. The details are unimportant. It is the message behind the rumination that's important.

That should make your job as an editor very profitable.

No you didn't, you havn't been around for a while. I thought you were doing what you you like doing best in prison. God knows what you'd be in there for...probably running over a cop.

Hey, when's this wedding and where's my invite?

Whats wrong with you?

Whats wrong with you? [/QB]</font><hr /></blockquote><font size="2" face="Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">hhhmmmm...

Don't **** with the Ruminations, this is how we talk in these.

Been busy.

The wedding is soon.

Your invitation is crammed in my rectum. Please insert tongue to retrieve.

Please, please..."character"? Underboss is just fine...

I didn't even know, I wasn't sure what KFC meant, and I thought it was a joke. Sorry for the confusion...

I did mean K F Chicken.

I know that now.

So Uzi, did you go out and buy a leather jacket and get several tattoos all over your body? Quit your job and cruise the highway to "find yourself"?


TIS

My brother just put an order in for a custom chopper from a local shop here in Michigan. He paid 60 large for the fucker. It should be done by Christmas. Of course, the weather in MI renders the bike useless until the next summer, but getting a new chopper is a nice fucking thing.

I've never driven a bike, but I would love to. First I will have to get over my fear of them. A few years back, I was in the passenger seat of a cousins Trans Am as we raced a little crotch rocket. It was a 2 lane road, and a van with no light on came and crashed into the bike. I have never seen anything so horriffic. The bike and rider went flying one way; his helmet (presumably with his head still in it) went another way. The force from the crash had gone through the van and knocked out of of its tail lights. It was awful. Every time I see a bike rider, I think of that. Needless to say, while I like bikes, I am not ready to get on one just yet.