Mike Gaines has the slickest 57ā Chevy around. Candy apple red two door with white roll and tuck leather interior. It has a 396 cu. in. engine, dual four barrel carbs, four in the floor and 411 posi-track rear-end. Mike takes his pride and joy out twice a year to blow her out and enjoy her for the weekend. He hits the interstate for several hours, takes a state highway with a great stretch of straight road and ends up in a quaint little place with the greatest greasy spoon hamburger Mike has ever tasted. The McAllenās bed and breakfast there is his overnight stay. This is day one. The next two days are spent wherever fate leads him, always ending back home and to work Monday morning. Mikeās gorgeous wife Allison takes their son Danny and visits her mother three towns away for these two weekends a year. Its early Friday morning and he canāt wait to hit the road. He has half a tank of gas and decides to head on out and gas up later. As he hits the interstate, all his cares and troubles melt with the roar of his awesome machine. Almost every oncoming driver turns their head to get a few seconds look at this red bomb blasting down the road. Mike keeps it at 70 mph., but doesnāt worry about sticking his foot in it. Mike is a cop and has never had trouble from the state troopers when out playing like this. He waves at those who wave first and ignores those that donāt.
Mikes notices a lot of bikers out on the road. He comes up on one group after another. He seems to remember something about a huge biker rally going on somewhere around here but doesnāt think too much about it. The bikers tip their heads as if to say nice ride man and Mike tips his back as if to say thanks. It is a great day. Fun was being had by all.
The gas gage is getting close to a quarter of a tank and there is a small truck stop up ahead. Mike pulls in and heads for the pumps. They are all taken up with bikes. Must be two dozen of them in line or getting fuel. Mike gets out to stretch his legs and waits patiently for his turn. He is in no hurry to get anywhere in particular.
As Mike stretches he noticed movement toward the back of his car. He turns to see black leather moving around his car. The hottest looking blonde biker he has ever seen was stroking her finger along the paintjob of his trunk. Mike had too many coats of paint on this beauty to count but decided to hold off giving this āladyā a hard time. She walked down the side of the car toward Mike still admiring the car. When she got to Mike she ran her fingernail across his stomach and continued down the front fender.
āNice.ā She said still looking at the car. āAnd this Chevy is sweet too.ā
Mike had arrested too many like her to play this game. He said nothing but watched her closely. She took her sunglasses off and looked at Mike. She had the coldest light blue-gray eyes Mike had ever seen. They were scary.
āPark this hotrod and come ride with me sweet meat.ā She said.
Mike just smiled and shook his head, no thanks.
āAwwwww, honey you donāt know what youāre missing.ā She faked a pouty sad smile.
āMaybe aids or syphilis or gonorrhea?ā Mike said.
Her eyes burned at him, her claws came out. Her fingernails rested on his hood. He shook his head no, she took her hand away.
āHey, Eyes, you coming?ā One of her gang called from the pumps.
āShut the fuck up bitch, Iāll come when Iām ready and you will come when Iām ready, so shut up!ā Eyes replied glaring over her shoulder at the inquirer. The others laughed.
She was pissed. She looked back at Mike, her eyes burning through him. She unzipped her leather jacket to show Mike she was wearing nothing underneath. She took her breasts in her hands and held the amazing globes out toward Mike. She had a beautiful pair of eyes tattooed on her left breast, and something else on her right one that Mike couldnāt quite make out and didnāt want to. āYou will never touch a pair like these asshole! Just remember you blew your chance at them and I hope you have wet dreams wishing you could kiss them just once!ā She whispered through clinched teeth and turned toward her girls.
Eyes slapped the girl who had hollered at her and climbed on her bike. They fired up their motorcycles and the eight girls left the parkinglot in unison, Eyeās jacket blowing in the breeze, her breasts exposed for all the world to see, and Mike thought, admire. He pulled to the pump and gassed up. There were other bikers there still filling up. Mike heard some snide remarks and jeering laughter. A couple of huge bikers moved toward Mike as if they were planning on harassing him, nasty smiles from ear to ear. Mike pulled his wallet out to get his money but also to flash his badge.
āHello gentlemen, having a nice day?ā Mike asked. He turned and put his hand on the small pistol holstered in the back waistband of his jeans. He never went anywhere without his service 45 or his backup gun.
The men stopped cold, put up their hands as if to say, hey man we donāt want any trouble.
āJust checkinā out your ride man, thatās all, just admiring the machine.ā One of them said as they backed up.
āGlad you like it.ā Was all Mike said.
They left before Mike finished fueling, he watched as they pulled out on the highway. He went to pay, anxious to get back on the road and put this ordeal behind him. Another group of bikers pulled in. They were checking out the 57ā with genuine interest when Mike got in, put his gun on the seat beside him and started the engine.
āCool machine, man.ā One guy next to Mikeās car said.
āThanks, nice bike.ā Mike answered. It had some of the hottest red, orange and yellow flames painted down the side of the blue tank and fender that Mike had remembered seeing. Mike had passed these guys earlier.