One night, back in January or February, Chris and I happened to watch a documentary on the Hell’s Angels. This documentary sparked a very long process that I will only begin to describe in this post.
After viewing the documentary, Chris decided that being a club biker would be the coolest thing ever. In turn, we spent the rest of the evening researching the Hell’s Angels.
SURPRISE! Chris is not “eligible” to become a Hell’s Angel based on the fact that he is black. I was a little offended, based on the fact that I live in Southern California where everything is much more liberal and have since almost forgotten about racism, bigotry and prejudice. But yet, being from the Midwest and seeing what I’ve seen, it was not all that shocking, and I quickly accepted the Angel’s choice as fact.
Chris, however, had a completely different respose. Somehow, he got the hair-brained idea to be the first ever black man in the Hell’s Angels. Though I instantly was fearful of his life, I didn't want to completely squash his dreams, so I allowed him the opportunity to play out this scenario…
Thankfully, after about 10 or 15 minutes of impromptu role-playing, Chris concluded that it probably was not in his best interest to march into the Dago bar over on El Cajon Blvd and demand they allow him to get patched in.
As we lay our heads on our pillows that night, the conclusion was made that we were definitely going to ride motorcycles, but that Chris would have to find a different club to join…
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