ERIK. “No, I met you just before high school. Damn near twenty-five years ago. We started riding together right after your mother passed. What’s that been, five?” Teddy said.

“Yeah, five or so,” I responded, nodding.

“Well, you haven’t been in a real relationship for as long as I have known you,” he said as he took a drink of his beer.

“All you’ve done is fuck bitches.” He stuck his finger in his mug of beer.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked, wondering why he had stuck his entire finger into his beer. As he pulled his finger out of his mouth, he responded.

“This is the coldest fucking beer I have ever had. God damn, its freezing. And this mug; this is a nice fucking mug. I’m going to drink this motherfucker, hide the mug, and order another. Then I’m gonna walk out of here with these two mugs and put ‘em in my bags. You gotta have a matching pair, or it looks like you stole a mug,” Teddy said, holding the mug up, admiring it.

“Dude, it’s a fucking glass beer mug. It doesn’t even have the name of this fucking place on it,” I said, shaking my head.

“That’s what’s cool, Doc. It’ll look like I bought ‘em.”

Teddy and I met when I was young. We immediately became friends. He was fun to be around and was one of those people that always made you laugh. I never spent any time around Teddy when the majority of it wasn’t spent laughing. When we were in a large group, he was always the center of attention and for good reason. He has the ability to tell a story like nobody else could. He always commanded the attention of the group for at least one of his tales. The group would always listen eagerly, knowing at some point they would laugh out loud.

I found, since the completion of college and riding with the motorcycle club, that I altered my speech patterns and my demeanor based on who I was with. When I was around other members of the club, I would talk just like they talked, all in an effort to make them comfortable with me. There was nothing worse than being around someone who made you feel uneasy or tried to talk above your ability to comprehend. In the company of any group of people, I purposely tried to talk like they did, never above them or below them.

About ten years ago, Teddy’s bike was parked in a line of bikes at a local bar. When the night of drinking ended, he attempted to get on his bike and start it. When he did, he knocked it over. The limited parking space at the bar required that all of the bikes be parked side-by-side, and in front of the bar. His bike fell onto the bike beside it, knocking it over, and in turn, knocking the next bike over. This continued as a chain reaction, until all of the bikes to the left of Teddy’s bike were knocked over. About fifteen of them in all. Initially, he tried to claim that he came out of the bar to find the bikes toppled over, but after a few minutes, he admitted that he had caused the pile-up. His club name immediately changed from Bear to Crash. Bear was fitting, as Teddy stood six foot three and weighed two hundred and sixty pounds. He was not, in any respect, fat. He had short curly brown hair and a full beard. Although he kept his beard neatly trimmed, it made him look bigger and meaner than he already did. The stereotypical biker tattoos littered both arms from shoulder to wrist.

“Holler at the waitress if you see her. She hasn’t been out here in a bit,” Teddy said.

We were sitting outside, underneath a covered patio in a new bar in town, Twin Peaks. The theme was a log cabin lodge type environment, and the patio had ten wooden tables with six loose wooden barstools at each table. The waitresses all wore khaki shorts, boots of some sort, and a cropped flannel shirt, unbuttoned. The shirt was tied at the bottom, instead of hanging loose outside the shorts. All of the shirts were carefully fitted to ensure that the entire midriff of the waitress was exposed and that her boobs were incapable of being covered. For all practical purposes, they were naked from the waist up. Places like this didn’t necessarily appeal to me, but it was one of the few biker friendly bars in town, and our club patronized the establishment. In turn, the owner of the bar donated money to the club, primarily to support the fundraising ride that we had in the summer.

“If I see her I will,” I said, looking around to see she was on the patio.

“So, Doc, tell me about this chick. She’s good people?”

“She’s great, Teddy. She’s easy to be around, she’s fun, and she is respectful. She’s everything I want in a girl, and so far, nothing that I don’t want. She’s college-educated, intelligent, and articulate. If I were to paint a picture of what would be my a perfect girl, so far; she’s it,” I responded.

“Well, for fuck’s sake, when you two getting married?”

“She makes me happy, Crash. Happier than anyone else ever has. A whole hell of a lot of them have tried. She succeeds by just being herself.”

“I’m just giving you shit, Doc, you know that.” He held his beer mug over his head, upside down, allowing it to drip into his mouth.

“That motherfucker is definitely empty. I need another beer, Doc.”

He no more than lowered his glass, and our waitress came onto the patio from inside the bar with another waitress walking beside her. The other waitress was extremely tall, attractive, blonde, and had breasts the size of large cantaloupes. Approximately ten percent of her breasts were concealed by her flannel shirt.

“It’s shift change. You guys can either tab out, or carry your tab over to your new waitress, Heather. This is Heather,” she said, pointing to the large breasted blonde standing beside her.

“Hi, guys,” Heather said.

We had only been at the bar for forty-five minutes, and probably had a tab of fifteen dollars. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a twenty dollar bill, and handed it to waitress number one.

“Here, just take this for your tip, we’ll tab out later. That’ll let you get out of here,” I said as I handed her the money.

“Oh, wow. Thank you. Okay, well, have a good evening guys,” she said as she walked away, leaving Heather, Teddy and I at the table.

“So, what can I get you two,” Heather asked smiling.

“I want another mug of Coors and your phone number,” Teddy said.

“Oh stop it,” Heather said, smiling at Teddy.

“I’m dead serious. You’re fucking gorgeous. I want to know more about you, but I don’t want to pester you at work. You know anything about riding on a bike?” Teddy asked as he pointed to his bike parked a few feet from where we were sitting.

“Oh my God, thank you. You’re so sweet. And yes, I’ve ridden on a bike before,” Heather answered, smiling at Teddy.

“Well, I want to get you on the back of mine, let’s make that happen,” Teddy said.

“Sounds good, let me get your beer, and I will be back in a minute. Do you need anything?”  Heather asked as she turned toward me.

“Oh my God, are you Erik?” Heather asked, her mouth opened wide in an obvious display of surprise.

“As a matter of fact, I am, why?” I asked.

“Well, Kelli is my best friend, so she talks about you all the time. And I’ve seen you around town a bit, while she’s been at college,” she said.

“Oh, you’re Heather?” I asked.

“Yes, we saw you a few months ago at The Pumphouse. I think that was the first night she saw you,” she said as she shifted her weight from one of her Ugg boots to the other. Her boobs shifted with her and about fell out of her non-existent top.

“Yeah, she told me about that. Well, it is nice to finally meet you,” I said, as I held my hand out to shake her hand.

“Same here,” she said as she shook my hand.

“Let me get your beer, and I will be right back,” she said as she looked at Teddy.

Teddy pointed at her with his index finger and then pointed at me.

“Brother, I’m going to fuck the hell out of that little girl. Did you see the tits on her? God damn. She’s got a set of fucking jugs on her. Tall bitch too. She’s probably as tall as you are. Maybe taller. Jesus. Long legs and huge tits. That makes for some good fucking,” Teddy said as he shook his finger at me.

“Listen, Crash. Just don’t fuck her over really bad. It could be bad for me if you did. She is best friends with my girl, Kelli. That’s what she was talking about. She’s Kelli’s best friend. They hang out almost every night that Kelli isn’t with me. They’re down in Old Town at The Pumphouse all the time together. And, from what Kelli has told me, Heather is a nice girl. Naive but nice. She’s been fucked over her whole life and never really had a boyfriend,” I said, hoping Teddy received the message without being irritated.

“How old you suppose she is, Doc?”

“Well, Kelli is twenty-two, and they went to school together, so I’m going to say twenty-two or so,” I responded.

“Sounds good to me. I will be good to her, Doc. I ain’t looking to fuck her over, if that’s what you mean. I will be good to her, as long as fucking her good and hard is what she likes,” he laughed as he spoke, rocking his bar stool back on the rear legs.

As soon as Teddy was done laughing, Heather walked out with a beer in one hand and a pitcher of ice water in the other. She walked up to the end of our table, handed Teddy his beer and filled my glass of water, smiling at me as she did.

“I can’t believe for as long as you and Kelli have been seeing each other, this is how we finally meet,” Heather said as she sat the pitcher down.

“I know. I’m going to say something to her tonight about it,” I said, smiling back at her.

“Is your beer always this cold?” Teddy asked as he took a drink of his beer. His stool was still on the rear legs, leaning back.

“Coldest beer in town. It’s twenty-eight degrees right now. We have a thermometer on the wall,” she responded, pointing to a huge digital thermometer on the wall inside the bar.

“Well, I like it,” Teddy said, smiling back at Heather.

“Hey, Blondie. Why don’t you and those big titties come over here and take our order?” said a voice from across the patio.

I turned and looked in the direction of the voice. There were two tables on the patio that had people seated at them. At one of the tables, two elderly gentlemen were eating a late lunch. The other table was occupied by six fairly large twenty-something-year-old guys, all drinking beer. At the same time I stood from my chair, Teddy stood from his, and Heather spoke. 

“Let me go help those guys,” Heather said.

“No, you stand right here,” I said. Heather looked back at me puzzled.

“I got this, Brother,” Teddy said as he took a drink of his beer.

“Which one was it?” he asked as he walked around the end of our table.

“Not sure, I think the one in the wife beater,” I responded.

“What’s going on?” Heather asked.

There was one empty table that separated us. “Teddy’s going to have a talk with those gentlemen,” I paused as I watched Teddy approach the table. “And teach them a little bit about being respectful.”

“Oh my God, I don’t want to get in trouble,” Heather said.

“You’re not, don’t worry,” I assured her.

“I could lose my job,” she said, looking at me worriedly.

“Don’t worry, we know the owner. You’re not going to lose your job over whatever happens here. I don’t care where you are working, never let anyone treat you with disrespect, Heather, do you understand me?” I asked her, realizing that I was talking to her as if she were Kelli.

“Okay,” she said, nodding.

Teddy walked toward the table as if he was going to walk right past it. I noticed that he was looking over all of the guys at the table, kind of sizing them up. They were all sitting down and not paying attention. As he got close to the end of the table, he turned and grabbed a bar stool from the adjoining table, placed it at the end of their table and sat down. As soon as he sat, the guy wearing the wife beater shirt stood up.

“How are you fella’s doing?” Teddy asked.

The entire table stopped talking and looked at him. A few of them answered, “Good.”

“I’m Teddy. I’m going to talk, and none of you are going to interrupt me while I am talking, because that’s disrespectful. Understood?”

Everyone nodded, except for the guy in the wife beater. He was clearly the largest one of the group, and was about six foot two, and probably two hundred pounds. He was no match for Teddy, but was clearly under the false impression that he was the biggest and toughest one at the table.

“Who the fuck are you?” The guy wearing the wife beater asked Teddy.

“I already told you, you disrespectful little prick. Now we can do this one of two ways. Either I’m just going to start beating on you until the cops come - or your boys here get me off of you - or you can shut the fuck up and listen to what I have to say. Which one you want?” Teddy asked, still sitting down on his stool, focused on the guy standing up. No one responded.

At this point, the entire patio was paying attention to the table where Teddy sat. People were walking across the patio to enter the bar, and the older gentlemen that were eating at the other table were also watching. All eyes were on Teddy. Heather stood beside me with her mouth open, watching as if she were in shock.

“Okay, listen, this is simple. That girl over there standing behind me is a waitress here. She needs to be treated with respect. Always. It don’t matter where you little fucktards are, if you have a waitress, you need to always treat her no differently than you’d treat a waitress if you were at dinner with your mother. Remember that. The place where you’re eating or who’s waiting on you doesn’t change how you treat a waitress. She’s a woman, and she’s a human being, treat her like it. Now, which one of you made the titty remark?” Teddy asked as he looked at each individual at the table.

Everyone at the table looked toward the guy wearing the wife beater. Still standing, he looked down at Teddy, and responded.

“I was, I mean I did,” he said.

“Tell me that isn’t going to happen again, here or anywhere else,” Teddy demanded.

“It won’t,” he responded.

“Okay, now. I ain’t looking to embarrass you any more than you already are. So I ain’t gonna make you walk over there in front of all of these people. But, look over at her, and tell her you’re sorry,” Teddy said as he turned to look at Heather.

The guy in the wife beater stood erect, looked directly at Heather, and spoke quietly. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed in her direction.

Heather continued to stand beside me, mouth agape, clearly amazed at what was happening. I put my arm around her to comfort her. She leaned into my shoulder as I placed my arm around her.

“Well, that ought to do it. Again, so there’s no confusion, I’m Teddy. That’s Doc. Well, to you guys, he’s Erik,” Teddy said, pointing in my direction.

I nodded. They all nodded back in my direction. One waved.

Teddy stood up, grabbed the bar stool, and as he walked away, said, “Nice talking to you fellas.”

As he walked back toward our table, Teddy placed the barstool at the table he had taken it from. As he approached our table, Heather broke my grasp and walked toward Teddy, arms open. Teddy turned and looked at her as she hugged him. He hugged her back and whispered something in her ear.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” she said, smiling from ear to ear.

“Being disrespectful to women is something Doc and I won’t stand for,” he responded, as he took a drink of his beer.

“Well, that was nice. And it was hot. You still want my number?” she asked.

“Well, hell yes. We gotta go on that ride, remember?”

Heather pulled a pen from her apron. She grabbed Teddy’s wrist and turned his hand over, palm up. She scribbled her number on the palm of his hand and drew a heart around it. As she was writing, the six gentlemen placed money on the table under a beer mug and left.

“Thank you for saying I was pretty, for asking me to go on a ride, and for talking to those guys. You’re sweet. Text me. I have to run inside, I have tables in there too. You guys alright?” she asked.

“We’re good, bring us the tab when you come back out,” I said.

“I’m staying,” Teddy said.

“Heather, I’m leaving and Teddy’s staying.” Turning her direction, I continued, “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Pleasure meeting you, Erik,” she said as she walked through the door into the bar.

“You staying?” I asked Teddy.

“Yeah, I’m gonna stay here and talk to her for a bit. Holler at me later,” Teddy said as he stood.

We embraced in what had become a typical biker hug, patting each other on the back.

“Love ya, brother,” he said.

“Love you too, Crash.”

Walking out to my bike, I wondered about Teddy and Heather; how and if that might work out. Although Kelli had mentioned Heather several times and suggested that we all get together, we had never done so. I wondered if there was a reason for that.

I got my phone out of my pocket, and sent Kelli a text.

Kelli: I’m headed home. Text me when you get a minute. Met Heather today at Twin Peaks.

If there was a reason for her not introducing Heather, this would give her time to think about it.

I placed the phone back into my pocket and got on my bike. It felt different riding it without Kelli. 

Lonely.