The old guy in the room below us at the hotel was chastising someone in our group about MY bike being parked in his spot. It was his spot because it was in front of his door.
He complained about it to the desk clerk while we were waiting for our limo to take us to the Big Texan.
She told him that there was no assigned parking and it was first come first serve.
He said that this was wrong and he’d never stay there again.
Big loss for the hotel.
I did not get involved in any of this (proud of me Mom?) because I know I would have dragged the issue to the lowest possible conclusion. Add in the fact that my ass hurt from the 8 hour ride and I may have moved this past a simple disagreement to something worse.
The Big Texan is a place that has to be experienced and I know I can’t give it justice in my descriptions.
This morning I find an older gentleman inspecting our bikes. It turns out that he’s preacher from Sweden and is in town to give the sermon locally. We talked about bikes and God and impressions and his bike back in Sweden and the new stuff our bikes all have. It was a pleasant half hour.
He also showed me his tattoos that he got before accepting God and changing the direction of his life.
I am a husband, father, grandfather, friend, business owner, traveller, Harley rider, citizen, patriot, gun owner, politically eclectic person of strange personal habits. I support police, trust no politicians, and can argue any side of an argument just to amuse myself. People love me or hate me and those that are in-between don't know me.
