Replies

Yo! The only question to ask yourself is whether you would have done the the same thing if the revelers were well-armed drunk-ugly bikers wearing really bad 'colors' sobering up from a week-long 'fest'?

Now that would have been something to write about.

'There I was, minding my own business, doing my best to ignore the ruckus over in the corner of the cafe.

Twenty or so really bad-ass drunken bikers were slopping their brew all over the place, hollerin' and shoutin' at each other, pawing their 'mama's and utterly destroying the ambience to which I am accustomed to when I walk into a cafe at 4:30 in the morning.

‘I didn't expect anyone else to be up and about at the ungodly hour and figured the place would be deserted. (I did notice about 20 or so Harley's parked in front of the joint, but paid it no mind.)

‘Enough was Enough,’ I told myself. So I stood up, walked over to the out-of-control bunch of freaks, swung back my jacked to reveal the large bag of stash I was holding, circled the tables a couple of times, eye-balled the chicks and wondered which one I should sit next to.

'Deciding that the mama with the crowbar screwed through her nose was the pick of the litter, I pulled up a chair, waved to the bros, unholstered my stash and tossed it on the table. '

(To be continued . . . ) ;>

'Deciding that the mama with the crowbar screwed through her nose was the pick of the litter, I pulled up a chair, waved to the bros, unholstered my stash and tossed it on the table. '

(To be continued . . . )

"And honestly, your honor, that's the last thing I remember until I woke up in the emergency room..."