coloured flowers that are a bit of an oddity at a biker bar. Their colourful blooms are so out of place that they do not soothe my nerves only increase them.
We step into a dark, cosy entryway, with low beams and exposed clay walls. A picture of a typical English hunt hangs precariously from a single nail and I feel exactly like the fox in that oil painting; just before the hounds tear it limb from limb.
Lilah looks back at me, a serene smile on her face, “Beer or Lager?”
I look from her to the painting and back again. Simple question, right? What would I like my last drink to be before I get led to the firing squad?
“I’ll take a neat whiskey, hold the rocks.”
She nods and the serene smile morphs into a broad grin. “A liquor man. I can work with that.”
She pulls me through a second door, and the space opens up, resembling a small cave; one that’s filled with quaint wooden tables and chairs. Chairs which are filled with leather vest wearing, burly, bearded bikers. Every single one of these guys looks built enough to snap my neck with one hand tied behind their back, and each one swivels to watch us enter.
I swear the lump I just swallowed was audible to every bloke in here and each one wears the same hard-edged, ‘I’m gonna make you my bitch’ look.
Today is the day I’m going to die a slow and painful death; all because of a bunny with an impressive rack.
A chair screeches across the slate floor and the biggest guy in the room stands up. He must be 6’5”, with biceps the same size as my thighs and dark, almost black hair that’s greying at the temples. His beard is trimmed perfectly, and those thick arms bear numerous tattoos.
He’s my own personal version of the grim reaper, and I have the urge to drop to my knees and cry like a baby for my mother.
I force that weak, pussy boy urge down and straighten my spine.
Never show fear, my father always told me. Granted, he was talking about dogs, because as a child I had an unhealthy fear of them, but the principle is the same.
Grim walks towards us, his gait strong and domineering, his eyes fixed on mine. I feel Lilah squeeze my hand once more before she lets go and waits for the big guy to approach.
When he’s within arms reach, she launches herself into his arms, and he picks her up and spins her around, both of them laughing in glee.
Oh, fuck. Grim must be her father. The shit I’m in just got deeper.
After kissing Lilah on the forehead, he sets her back on the floor and tears his smiling eyes away from her, to stare me down. All hint of a smile devoid from his face.
“Introduce us to your friend, Lils.”
His voice ripples down my spine. It’s impossibly deep and sounds just like a growling Grizzly Bear. Bear, this guy must be Bear.
Lilah spins out of his embrace and takes the few steps back to me. Her hand instantly finding mine.
“Guys,” she addresses the whole room, “This is Harry. We met today at the school fundraiser, and he was smitten with my bunny ears.”
I tentatively raise my hand in Hello, only to be met with silence. Thick, goosebump forming, silence.
Lilah shakes her head with a little laugh. “Alright everyone, you’ve had your fun. Say Hi to Harry and stop trying to be big, butch, scary bikers.”
More silence.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I want to turn and run. These guys could eat me for breakfast.
“Enough already, or I’m telling Harry about the time you all…”
A chorus of greetings ring out around us, many of them sounding like they come from the mouths of prepubescent boys and not muscle-bound, scary grown men. Or am I hallucinating?
Bear’s face breaks into a shit-eating grin and reaches out to shake my hand.
When he opens his mouth to speak again, I am rendered mute.
“Hello there, Harry. It’s not often our Lils brings anyone out to visit us. Please forgive us for the teasing. It’s the only fun we get.”
Gone is the bone shaking growl, to be replaced with
We step into a dark, cosy entryway, with low beams and exposed clay walls. A picture of a typical English hunt hangs precariously from a single nail and I feel exactly like the fox in that oil painting; just before the hounds tear it limb from limb.
Lilah looks back at me, a serene smile on her face, “Beer or Lager?”
I look from her to the painting and back again. Simple question, right? What would I like my last drink to be before I get led to the firing squad?
“I’ll take a neat whiskey, hold the rocks.”
She nods and the serene smile morphs into a broad grin. “A liquor man. I can work with that.”
She pulls me through a second door, and the space opens up, resembling a small cave; one that’s filled with quaint wooden tables and chairs. Chairs which are filled with leather vest wearing, burly, bearded bikers. Every single one of these guys looks built enough to snap my neck with one hand tied behind their back, and each one swivels to watch us enter.
I swear the lump I just swallowed was audible to every bloke in here and each one wears the same hard-edged, ‘I’m gonna make you my bitch’ look.
Today is the day I’m going to die a slow and painful death; all because of a bunny with an impressive rack.
A chair screeches across the slate floor and the biggest guy in the room stands up. He must be 6’5”, with biceps the same size as my thighs and dark, almost black hair that’s greying at the temples. His beard is trimmed perfectly, and those thick arms bear numerous tattoos.
He’s my own personal version of the grim reaper, and I have the urge to drop to my knees and cry like a baby for my mother.
I force that weak, pussy boy urge down and straighten my spine.
Never show fear, my father always told me. Granted, he was talking about dogs, because as a child I had an unhealthy fear of them, but the principle is the same.
Grim walks towards us, his gait strong and domineering, his eyes fixed on mine. I feel Lilah squeeze my hand once more before she lets go and waits for the big guy to approach.
When he’s within arms reach, she launches herself into his arms, and he picks her up and spins her around, both of them laughing in glee.
Oh, fuck. Grim must be her father. The shit I’m in just got deeper.
After kissing Lilah on the forehead, he sets her back on the floor and tears his smiling eyes away from her, to stare me down. All hint of a smile devoid from his face.
“Introduce us to your friend, Lils.”
His voice ripples down my spine. It’s impossibly deep and sounds just like a growling Grizzly Bear. Bear, this guy must be Bear.
Lilah spins out of his embrace and takes the few steps back to me. Her hand instantly finding mine.
“Guys,” she addresses the whole room, “This is Harry. We met today at the school fundraiser, and he was smitten with my bunny ears.”
I tentatively raise my hand in Hello, only to be met with silence. Thick, goosebump forming, silence.
Lilah shakes her head with a little laugh. “Alright everyone, you’ve had your fun. Say Hi to Harry and stop trying to be big, butch, scary bikers.”
More silence.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I want to turn and run. These guys could eat me for breakfast.
“Enough already, or I’m telling Harry about the time you all…”
A chorus of greetings ring out around us, many of them sounding like they come from the mouths of prepubescent boys and not muscle-bound, scary grown men. Or am I hallucinating?
Bear’s face breaks into a shit-eating grin and reaches out to shake my hand.
When he opens his mouth to speak again, I am rendered mute.
“Hello there, Harry. It’s not often our Lils brings anyone out to visit us. Please forgive us for the teasing. It’s the only fun we get.”
Gone is the bone shaking growl, to be replaced with
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