We where approximately three hundred miles from El Paso, hadn’t slept in almost three days, and at last count, we were desired in three states and eleven counties. Would you believe me, if I said we were not liable. Well, don’t then. At this stage I won’t blame you. Looking in at this entire situation, it would be hard to expect you to believe us.
But listen, not to be crass, I got other things on my mind. Sherrie was pretty sick and I wasn’t in the best way either. We were close to out of gas, out of places to go, and I got approximately twenty eight bucks and some change, and a nasty fever. Not to mention my Harley Davidson boots were wearing through at the heel and ankle. I need some new ones fast.
I turned into this local bar, it looked like a place we would blend in nicely, hogs parked around the place like you could imagine in some movie or something. sticking out from the saddle bags of one of the motorcycles was, what seemed could be a pair of Harley Davidson boots. I’d think about that on the way out, if we made it out.
Queenie, that was what I called Sherrie, needed a doctor fast. I knew a bunch of these biker clubs had there own doctors, for pains and such that shouldn’t be treated at the local hospital. It might just be hopeful thinking, but we where desperate. Queenie woke up, just as we pulled into the parking lot. How she could keep on the back of my bike, being that wounded and sound asleep was a mystery to me, but she did it like it wasn’t a big deal at all.
