When Bikers Drive Minivans

I go to the gym three days a week. I usually go early so as not to cut deeply into my workday. (I work for myself, so I gain nothing by slacking.)

Anyway, If I get there before 8 am there is a group of guys .... mid forties, tops. Maybe younger. All big, beefy guys with 'do rags and denim jackets with the sleeves cut off. No colors, but looking for all the world like bikers. And acting the part. Lots of loud grunting as they do big free weights. Needlessly loud laughing. The gym is mostly empty at that hour and they're pretty harmless, albeit a bit silly to me.

I don't actually know these guys, but we acknowledge each other in that 'hey man' eye contact thing guys do when they really don't want to touch the other guy.

Anyway, the other day I go in earlier than normal. Before they got in, actually. I'm on the treadmill. They do a sort of low budget "Viva Viagara" commercial sorta thing. Back slapping and "hey man!" and that kinda thing.

Big free weights. Spotting for each other. Loud manly noises. The smell of testosterone in the air.

I finish my workout with my wimpy-assed 5 lb dumbbells just for tone. I'm wearing baggy shortz and a tee-shirt with three stick figures at a campfire, each with a hot dog on a stick and a caption that reads "Its all fun and games until someone loses a wiener".

I'm a clown.

They're MachoManBikers.

I'm 5-6 and round and bald.

They're 6-4 and big and beefy and tattooed and wear 'do rags on their manes.

They're done. I'm done.

Coats on.

We leave.

I'm curious. The loudest and macho-est of the group is sorta looking furtively over his shoulder. Like he's being followed. or doesn't wanna be seen.

I get in my car, parked in front, like everyone else.

Except for big, fast walk, looking-over-his-shoulder, MachoGuy.

I'm feeling perverse.

I drive slowly in the same way he's going, which is not toward the exit, but toward a remote lot out of sight of the gym's front door.

There's one vehicle parked there.

A minivan. Maybe 8 ... 10 years old. Lotta evidence of a "Mom's Taxi" sorta thing.

With a ribbon on the radio antenna.

He makes eye contact with me.

I keep driving as I watch him avert his eyes again and duck into the minivan.

As I pass him, he's looking away. At a brick wall.

Hehehe .......







Ooops ... wrong kinda bikers.

:)

Had no idea Midlo's old man was a biker.:rofl:

:thumbsup: