Last night I was the only driver working a bar close in my neck of the woods; the rest got spooked offline by an unruly crowd from a tiny open air concert at the city square earlier… Anyhow, I’m getting pings non-stop, a peculiar mix of drunk students, drunk rednecks and drunk bikers with an occasional drunk soldier. And then I get a ping from her.

She looked out of place in this vanilla biker bar. Early 20s, alone, heavenly cute and dressed for the Oscars red carpet. As she catwalks towards my car, I notice that a crowd of bikers smoking outside the bar is staring not at her legs and butt, but at me… as if they were expecting something to happen.

She approaches my door, looks me in the eye through the crack in my window and… I get a mild concussion from her slapping the roof. Then she opens her pretty mouth and yells like a banshee – “Bitch! Roll that shit down!”

I double check that the doors are locked, then roll that shit down. As the window goes down, up goes my finger, accompanied by a heartfelt “Fuck off bitch!…” The bikers laugh bubbles into their beer.

An hour later I was picking up last pax of the night from the same bar. Heavenly creature was still there, shivering in a wind, staring at her phone with an Uber app open, vainly trying to find another ride… Schadenfreude was palpable.