Bitchin' Bikers!

Don't know who this dude is in the picture, but what a great pic it is!

I finally got of my hell hole and picked myself up (thank you to that special person for helping me). Off to the bar I went. Not for copious amounts to drink, like those sad sad people at the bar drinking themselves into a flat coma, trying to rid themselves of the drama that pervails their life. No, I was going to work.

Wow, it's been almost 9 years since I worked at a bar. Since my feet ached so much that they wanted to fall off. Since my short term memory worked - trying to remember many a long list of food and drink orders simultaneously.

Working for yourself is lonely at times and the social isolation is a killer. What better remedy than to work at a bar! I was at a bar one night and offered my services to the bar owner - thinking that nothing would really come of it. But low and behold it did. So there was Stacey busting tables, running around like a blue arse fly and truly LOVING it! There's something about running around, chatting to people and being so busy you don't know your head from your arse. And I loved it. I loved it so much, I'm bartendering on a more frequent basis. It keeps me busy, keeps my busy brain distracted, allows me to have my 1000 words for the day (even more!) and there's something about that waiting to get tips and wondering how much you going to make. And for those who don't tip me, I'll just spit in your food. (Joking)

The other night I was bartendering and there was a large group of bikers there. I've come to realise that there is something about bikers. No, not the ones who ride those sissy bikes. I'm talking about the big men, with heavy biker 'armour' and layers of tattoo's driving Harleys. Observing from the bar, these men look hard, but upon talking to some of them, they all have a story. They all have been through shit, surpassed it and have had so many experiences, it's fascinating. And what's even more fascinating is that although they have an exterior of an angry bull, they're more like fuzzy bears inside - they are kind of sweet. There's this loyalty within the bikers group that you don't see anymore these days. We could all learn a bit from these men instead of hooting at them when they try and pass you on the road. They're proud of something, loyal to something and garsh'darnet they just know how to have fun. Fun being the double Captain Morgan and coke that they ordered a million times over. That or brandy and coke. I was truly gobsmacked at how much they can consume without falling over in an drunk stooper.

Personally I think bikers are bitchin'. I have this knew found respect for this group of people. I even asked my husband if we should maybe join a bikers gang. My mom was not impressed at that thought. But nevertheless, if I can't join 'em I'll just party with 'em.