Friday, January 6, 2017

Fiesta (Part 1)

     We walked towards the entrance of the trattoria.  The man we were dining with, Robert DeNiro, was sitting on a bench just outside.  He saw us coming and rose, taking us in.  Bekka he was familiar with, but he was meeting me for the first time.   When this little dinner date had been arranged I asked Bekka if I should gussy up a little.  She dismissed this idea, reminding me that she could count on one hand she had ever not seen me in my Levis or Ben Davis, boots, punk rock t-shirt, and spike bracelets.  My spike-and-pin covered denim jacket was sometimes absent, but nearby.  If I showed up at the trattoria in a tie, the staff might not even recognize me.

Fiesta (Part 2)

     The Hell's Angels Labor Day run was still over two weeks away, but the Angels were already making preparations.  Every bike would be there, of course, but the Iveco box van from the wrecking yard was coming, hauling everyone's gear, plus coolers and other random crap.  The Dago Angels would be looking sharp as they rode, the machines unfettered by sleeping bags and gear bungeed to handlebars and racks.  A stake bed truck would also be present, carrying tools, air tools and compressor, to act as sort of a rolling shop in case anyone need to make repairs.  Red and his old lady owned a monstrous, lumbering 1971 Winnebago.  This would serve as the Dago chapter's home base in Pismo Beach.  It would be the gathering spot for the chapter, a place to leave messages for people, and somewhere to sit in relative solitude for a little while.  Old ladies would be at the wheels of these vehicles.

Fiesta (Part 3)

     Dear Becky Page and Lenny Schneider,
     Hello!  This is Mick, Harry, Bess, and Shirley.  We hope you remember us.  We met you all a while back bowling in Clairemont.  You were very friendly Becky, you talked to us about hugging, and why it was important, and how to do it.  You also gave us copies of Temporary Pleasures for free, and also gave us some pills which you said would make us all feel closer to each other, and help us talk.

Fiesta (Part 4)

     "Oh my God, this is gonna be so cool," announced Jane from the back seat of the Falcon.  "They're gonna have run shirts there, right?  Announcing '1991 Labor Day Run' in Pismo Beach?  Oh shit, I'm gonna make every headbanger boy at school puke with jealousy showing up at school wearing one of those!  I'm buying at least three."

Fiesta (Part 5)

     Bekka and Terry lit cigarettes and walked up the street towards the beach.  When they arrived at the parking lot, Terry said, "Walk kinda slow, so motherfuckers can see us.  They'll try and collar us, let us know what the fuck they got for sale."
     Sure enough, as they approached the sidewalk bordering the beach side of the lot, a guy sort of drifted up out of nowhere, matching their pace and saying, "Need shit?  Need shit?"
     "Just weed," Terry replied.  "You holdin'?"
     "Just shit.  This hour, that's what the market is for."  The guy angled off and disappeared.

Fiesta (Part 6)

Bekka, Terry, and Velvet sat down in the living room of Terry's apartment, Velvet taking in his surrounding with slightly raised eyebrows. The only commonality between urban black culture and outlaw biker culture is both are made up of homo sapiens.... Although given the foreheads of some bikers, even that may not be true. There may still be some recessive Neanderthal genes floating around, and those possessing it are hung up on Harley Davidsons.

Fiesta (Part 7)

     The Dago Angels left the lot of the H-Lo at 5:30 in the morning on Saturday of Labor Day weekend, heading north towards Pismo Beach.  We were a fairly impressive convoy.  The putts came first, twenty-eight Harley Davidsons, the riders all wearing the H.A. colors on their backs.  They rode two to a lane, holding the speed limit, in fairly tight formation.  At the back were Terry and Jane, protocol dictated that non-patch holders stayed behind the Angels.  Next was me and Bekka in the hot rod Falcon.  To the rear came the huge Winnebago and Iveco box van.  And there were two more cars, driven by a couple Angel old ladies.  Normally they'd just double-pack with their men, but it was felt having more than one car on hand might be a good idea.  If someone was injured and needed to go to the ER, or if a few of the boys wanted to make a beer run. suitable wheels would be available, and the club wouldn't be reliant on just the Falcon for such transportation.

Fiesta (Part 8)

     The decision was made to delay walking around the preserve until later in the afternoon, allowing more chapters to arrive and for Dago to take care of things.  Tents went up, coolers were loaded, those of us staying in motels took off and checked in.  Those staying in Santa Maria headed that way.  Angels from chapters which had already arrived, one or two at a time, would drift up to say hello and find out who we were.  It would seem we were a bit of a visual anomaly: between Roach's mohawk and Jane's blue hair, we were very fashion forward.

Fiesta (Part 9)

     The girls and I got back to the preserve around 8:45, Terry and Jane leading the way on the Harleys.  Again, the road leading up to the preserve entrance was lined with sheriff's and city police cars.  We turned in at the entrance, only to be stopped by a deputy.  He let Terry and Jane through, then gestured for me to roll down my window.  I did so, and he leaned in.
     "Do you have business here?" he asked.
     "Breakfast," I replied.
     "Are you a member of the Hell's Angels?"

Fiesta (Part 10)

     Arriving back at the preserve, once again we were stopped by deputies.  The Angels in front of us, on their putts, barely had to slow down.  Now there were four county mounties present.  Two stood at each side of the entrance, one walked up to my window, and the last one positioned himself directly in front of the Falcon, making it clear that if I wanted to ignore them, I'd have to be willing to run him over.  The deputy at my window said, "Do you have business here?"
     "Dinner," I replied.
     "Are you a member of the Hell's Angels motorcycle club?"

Fiesta (Part 11)

      After breakfast in the morning, Bekka and I helped clean the Dago area and stow everything in the Iveco.  This finished, we headed back to the amphitheater to socialize and nurse a bit of leftover keg beer.  Jane showed up after a while, alone.  She seemed a bit melancholy.

Fiesta (Part 12)

     An hour later all four college girls were back from their introductory cruises.  Terry and Racine were back first.  Racine looked positively winded.  Terry was saying to her, "Yeah, like I said, a few of the dudes from fuckin' Oakland tried my putt, and they were blown away.  They think I'm nuts for putting the fuckin' thing on the street at all.  But hey, I wanted fast, and I got what I wanted.  I guess I'm just used to the fuckin' thing."

Fiesta (Part 13)

     The next day, we all had lunch together.  Bekka and I had ridden out putts, so there were four outlaw Harleys parked in front of the Mongolian barbecue place to give passers-by a vague sense of unease. Jane was somewhat annoyed she was missing out over a trivial thing like the first day of school. After we ate, we cruised.  Our first destination was SDSU, at the request of Peaches and Barbie.  For three years running, San Diego State University had been ranked number one in Playboy's list of top ten party schools.  Yeah, there's a ranking a college wants to have.  What the hell, pitch it to the parents of incoming freshmen: "Beer flows through student housing like gutter water, all manner of recreational drugs can be obtained within fifteen minutes, the fraternities have more political influence here than our own board of trustees, the number of unwanted pregnancies among underclassmen continues to skyrocket, local bail bondsmen consider us a Happy Hunting Ground, the frats have organized and turned date rape into a league sport, and the county Department of Public Health has set up a satellite office and clinic on campus, as venereal diseases tend to spread through our student population faster than a prairie fire.  Oh, and our football team was 8-5 last year.  Go Aztecs!"

Fiesta (Part 14)

     Jane was on the sofa watching TV when we got home.  She was nude.  She was always nude at home now, and we were adjusting.  She got up to give us hugs, then went and retrieved three Anchor Steams for us.  We'd hit the bong in a little while.  We'd told her we would probably be gone until early evening and to have dinner without us, so she'd invited a couple friends from the volleyball team out to dinner at a local Chilean restaurant.