Strangely I often find the “rougher” people are dressed, the nicer they are to strangers (so long as you don’t approach them with attitude). It’s like all their need to be rebellious or antisocial was expended on their appearance.
One winter a passing young man I would have described as a “punk” stopped to help me finish shovelling my car out after it had gotten stuck halfway up a steep-angled, unplowed driveway. He looked more like someone you’d expect to try and mug you. He spoke very politely too. ^_^
I used to go to a bar that was neutral territory for Hells Angels and their largest competitors. Get those together at any other place and things got tense, but at this bar there were never any fights. They needed somewhere to settle disputes and that meant drugs or anything else that might attract the cops weren’t tolerated.
Good food and beer and excellent service. You just had to get past the bikers who hung out at the door and do your best not to fuck up and things were cool. Oh and if a human wall of muscle (or lard) suddenly blocked your path when you got close to the tables in the back then you’d choose another toilet…
LOL.
this one is still one of the best of the whole comic love it =)
Reminds me of Dav Pilkey’s “Flip-O-Rama” portions of his books. Man, those stories were forth grade humor at its finest…
Strangely I often find the “rougher” people are dressed, the nicer they are to strangers (so long as you don’t approach them with attitude). It’s like all their need to be rebellious or antisocial was expended on their appearance.
One winter a passing young man I would have described as a “punk” stopped to help me finish shovelling my car out after it had gotten stuck halfway up a steep-angled, unplowed driveway. He looked more like someone you’d expect to try and mug you. He spoke very politely too. ^_^
I used to go to a bar that was neutral territory for Hells Angels and their largest competitors. Get those together at any other place and things got tense, but at this bar there were never any fights. They needed somewhere to settle disputes and that meant drugs or anything else that might attract the cops weren’t tolerated.
Good food and beer and excellent service. You just had to get past the bikers who hung out at the door and do your best not to fuck up and things were cool. Oh and if a human wall of muscle (or lard) suddenly blocked your path when you got close to the tables in the back then you’d choose another toilet…