Just this past week I had to throw out several stupid drunks. One old man, we call him Whistle Britches (you can probably guess why), was hitting on one of my 25-year-old bartenders and he was pissed that she wouldn’t go out with him after her shift. He got loud, they called me, and now he’s a goner.
Another old cat kept encouraging his 60-year-old girlfriend to lift up her shirt. When I explained to them that we don’t do that here, he asked, “What kind of f’n biker bar is this?” I explained to him that we are the kind of biker bar that is owned by a family man and his family. I told him that my Ma, my wife and my daughter all work here, and that none of us were interested in seeing his girlfriend’s boobs! I then asked this guy if he would want his girlfriend to show her boobs to his family -- his mother and his daughter -- he said “No.” So I yelled, “THEN DON’T SHOW THEM TO MY FAMILY!” He assured me that it won’t happen again so I didn’t kick him out -- yet!
Despite everything, my Strokers IceHouse really helps bring people into the motorcycle shop. They may come in to drink a beer, listen to the live music, eat a dang good cheeseburger and hang out with their pals, but guess what: While they’re here, they always come in to look around at my bike shop, and they usually wind up buying something (God bless ‘em!). It may just be a helmet, or a pair of gloves, sunglasses, or a T-shirt, or they may buy a dang motorcycle.
My beer joint really helps my motorcycle shop and my motorcycle shop brings people into my beer joint.
Well, I better close for now because it’s 7 p.m., which is closing time. I’m “getting lucky” tonight -- which at my age means my wife is cooking supper!
I love you, Grandma and Grandpa, and I have your picture on my night stand so I can say “Good morning” and “Good night” to y’all every day.