I walked into a roadside tavern near Allentown PA that had several motorcycles parked outside. Loving bikes, I thought nothing of it. Inside, a motorcycle “club” were the only patrons on that Sunday morning. I ordered some food and, despite a warning from the proprietor, decided to stay and eat there. Some of the women started insulting me with comments about the darkness of my skin, but I paid them no mind. I figured if I said anything to them, the men would be obligated to kick the crap out of me or never hear the end of it from their women. When my food arrived, I sat beside one of the bikers at the large horseshoe shaped bar. One of the women asked “Larry” if he was going to sit next to that thing (me). We looked at each other, and he turned back to them and said there was nowhere else to sit. I thought he was very diplomatic. So the women began throwing food at me while I was trying to eat my burger and beer. French fries were bouncing off the bar as they continued to try and get to me. The men just watched it all, mildly amused. Finally, one of the biker wenches added ketchup to one of the fries and launched it my way. It struck the bar right next to my right hand and stuck there, splashing me with a little ketchup. I was really angry by this point, and picked up the fry.
All eyes were on me as they waited to see what I would do. I scowled at the women at the end of the bar, then ATE the fry! I then continued with my lunch. The men were falling off their stools laughing, and the women stormed off in an angry huff. The bikers all crowded around me, shook my hand and commended me for not letting their “bitches” get to me. I explained that I saw the bikes outside, but that I loved motorcycles, so I came in. At this point, they took me outside and let me sit on their choppers, and proudly showed me their custom paint and unique modifications. After a while I bid them a good day and went on my way. I had made friends in truly adverse circumstances, and my optimism for the human race was reinforced once again.