THE BIKER NAZI MAKES FRIENDS

A little message to The Saint

Everyone is gone. It's weird to have an empty nest again. Oh, wait! I almost forgot that goofy looking handsome gentleman staying at the other end of the house in our guest room known affectionately on this blog as The Biker Nazi.

After more than a month of chaos, I didn't even leave my house the whole day on Saturday. I spent the entire day cleaning and resting, cleaning and resting. In fact, I didn't even get out of my jammies until about 4pm.

On Sunday, I was itching to get out and do something again. I suggested a bike ride might be in order and My Harley Stud and The Biker Nazi were more than happy to oblige. We set off for the historic district in Stuart. We had lunch at a locally owned sports bar (during the Dolpins game) and opted for the outside seating. It was a beautiful day. The food was great but the service was well….not so much. If you remember my earlier posts from our trip to Indiana, you know that poor service seems to follow The Biker Nazi. Or maybe it's just when he is with me. Anyway, it seems our very young server had a little too much party and too little sleep the night before. She had no problem in telling us this little tidbit though it became pretty clear as the lunch progressed. I may be showing my age here but my tolerance for poor customer service is at an all time low. Call in sick for Pete's sake. But if you're going to go to the trouble to show up, at least SHOW UP. And this concludes my anger management session for this post. (I just needed to get that off my chest.) MHS and BN weren't nearly as aggravated by the lack of service as I was.

After lunch, we decided to take a stroll through the shops in the historic district. I stopped to look at these in the window: (Psst! They are hand-made.)

Imagine my surprise to look up and see this in the window:
I realize the glare is pretty bad but you are seeing just what I saw: A Biker Nazi mannequin


BN kept disappearing into these cool little shops. Now if the man would have done more of this on our trip out West, my arse would have been a lot happier with him. We saw a welcome mat in this store that read: I like your underpants. (Get it?) Well, I thought it was funny.

That's an old theatre on the right that is still in business. The Three Rednecks were performing that day. We heard great things about them but didn't check it out.

We eventually made our way to the waterfront and a jazz festival which we found out is held the first Sunday of every month. I know where we'll be the first Sunday in February.

The music was great and the setting was perfect. Who knew the Biker Nazi likes jazz!

We're from Indiana. Now Hoosiers are known for their hospitality. MHS and I have just grown accustomed to the stand-offishness of the South Floridians. But the Biker Nazi knows no strangers. He considers it his personal obligation to see if he can make these cool cucumbers speak to him. On this particular outing, MHS and BN were attracting all the "older" women.

Here's the conversation I overheard while taking this picture:

BN-Cool! I just saw a stingray!

Older woman #1 - A stingray, really? Where?

Older woman #2 - Show us!

BN-Oh, sorry, he went under the dock. Stick your toe in the water. That'll make him come out.

MHS-smiles and remains completely silent.

OW#1-I'm not sticking my toe in that water. You stick your toe in the water.

BN-I can't. I don't have any toes. I lost them in a stingray accident.