Late fall of 95’ I lived a few buildings south of The Red Dragon on Lyndale avenue. It was our frequently tapped watering hole. My friend Daryl and his brother stopped by after a day of wine and food tasting and I needed a drink, so we went to the Dragon. This place is known for some interesting times but tonight it was pretty slow ( It must have been a week night). We slid into the far back booth and proceeded to smooth out all of life’s worries. We were into a few rounds when the waitress wiggles over and says “you gotta get your friend out of here he’s making the other patrons sick”. I didn’t know what she was talking about. She must have been confused, it was usually the food.
Well I didn’t realize it but Daryl is sitting next to me passed out with drool and snot running all down his face and shirt. I woke him up and he stumbled off. Not more than a couple of minutes go by but we hear some woman shriek like her top had just been ripped of by a Werewolf, but was only Daryl passed out on the women’s bathroom floor. His brother and a I get up, get Daryl off of the floor and are trying to carry him out the back door when some punk rock kid comes up from behind us and starts shoving us and telling us were fucked and better get out of there. What the fucking idiot must not have noticed, is that was exactly what we were already doing before he came to help.
Daryl and his brother left and I went back in to finish my gin and tonic. It was when I sat up at the corner of the bar that I noticed the table of punk rock fags. There were four dudes and a chick. The one with the girl kept eyeballing me and mouthing “watch out when you leave were gonna kick your ass” over and over. So I grab my drink and walk out the back door, broke the top off my glass and waited. And waited but no one came out, so I stuck the broken glass into my coat pocket and went back in. The mouthy prick wasn’t in his chair so I sat down and started to talk to his girl. She was smoking hot and oozing sex, I was so distracted I didn’t even notice the other guys at the table. When her dick came back I politely gave him his chair back and asked why nobody came out to beat me up. He had some smart ass remark and as he was taking a drink of his cocktail I smacked him the back of the head. I heard his teeth hit glass as booze splashed his face, again asking why his threats were empty. Yeah now it was on.
I casually walked out the front door when they all bum rushed me in the vestibule. I whipped out the glass and caught a couple of fists with it before it before they hit my face but that didn’t last long. Before I knew it we were out in the street. I had gotten in a few good whacks before I was on the ground getting kicked and punched by three of them. Luckily I had brought down the mouthy one and had a hold of his head from the back and was smashing his head onto the street. It was one of the most pleasurable points of the night, I wasn’t letting go of this fucker until heard teeth rattle on the asphalt. I kept slamming and slamming and slamming as hard as I could. All of the kicking and punching in the world couldn’t have gotten me to loosen up, but I slipped. My right index finger got too far into his mouth and I felt his teeth cutting through skin and meat. The guy bit off a chunk of my finger. As I jumped up and scrambled back to the sidewalk they all switched to pushing and yelling at me to get out of here, we’re calling the cops. I couldn’t get anyone of those tough assed punk rock shits to keep it on. They all went back into the bar.
I walked home and wrapped my finger in paper towel topped off with a little electrical tape. My blood was boiling, how in the hell are four punk rockers going to start a fight with one skinny ass kid and then tell me they are calling the cops. I grabbed one of the butcher knives and was heading for the door when my buddy Tater came home and strongly encouraged me not to leave the house with that thing. Luckily he was persuasive enough and I took his advice. Who knows how wrong that could have gone. We sat down and cracked a couple of beers and both lost any respect we had for punk rockers.
The posers out there, no matter the scene will ruin it for all eventually.
BRENT SENDS IN THIS CONTRIBUTION, HE CAST THOSE PUSH-ROD TUBES AND DOES OTHER PARTS LIKE THE AIR=CLEANER,CAST IN A FRIENDS BARN.SUPER OLD WORLD STYLE.REALLY COOL SHOVEL WITH LOTS OF DETAIL AND COOL PARTS. HE'S THINKING ABOUT MAKING SOME SIMULAR CAST PARTS FOR SALE,I'LL LET YOU KNOW WHAT I HEAR,SOME ONE OFF PUSH ROD TUBES WOULD BE KILLER. THANX BRENT!
I'D DIG SEE'IN YA'LLS BIKES,ART,WHATEVER. YOU GOT SOMETHING THAT FLOWS WITH WHATS ON HERE,SEND IT!
E-MAIL BEFORE YOU ORDER SO I CAN MAKE SURE I GOT WHAT YOU WANT. I'M WORKING HARD TO BRING YOU SOME SICK NEW SHIT FOR 2010. CRAZY STUFF..
ROCKY GOT HIS BIKE DONE DAYS BEFORE HE MOVED TO AZ. HE HAD TO DEAL WITH TITLING ISSUES AND OTHER SHIT. ALL THE FRIENDS GOT TOGETHER AND FINISHED IT IN TIME FOR HIM TO PUT SOME BREAK-IN MILES. WE ONLY GOT TO RIDE TOGETHER ONCE OR TWICE. WE WERE CRUISING A ROAD ON THE RIVER AND DEER WERE EVERYWHERE DARTING ACROSS THE ROAD. WE HAD FULL ON DEER PARANOIA. I THOUGHT ONE WAS GONNA JUMP OUT OF THE WOODS AND DOIN A FLYING LEAP AND HUG ME. DEER-A-NOIA!!!.
CALIFORNIA,THE BEST RIDING EVER. IT'S LIKE LIVING IN THE MID-WEST SURFING THE GREAT LAKE SWELL,THEN GOING SURFING ON THE WEST COAST. I HAD THAT SAME FEELING OF STOKED-NESS. CAN'T WAIT TILL BORN FREE 2010.
YEA,YEA,YEA.... CHOPPERS/BIKES ARE ART. I HEAR IT ALL THE TIME,FUCK.. THE MASS OF SQAURES CONSIDER O.C.C. ART. THE WORD GETS THROWN AROUND ALL THE TIME. ART,ART,ART.... BUT THIS BIKE IS WHERE IT REALLY STICKS,THIS MY FRIEND,IS ART.
DANIEL BLASTING FTW HEAVY HAT. HE'S SOME KINDA ELECTRONIC MUSIK GURU. THANKS MAN,ZAC
IN GERMANY I BELIEVE. THIS WAS TAKEN RIGHT BEFORE HAN'S DAD AND HAN'S FUTURE MOM WIPED OUT ON A BRIDGE,THEY WEREN'T HURT AND FELL IN LOVE AFTER THE CRASH.
