Roadhouse

I was riding my motorcycle down the interstate highway.
When a thought occurred to me that I just might want a beer.
So I took the very first off ramp and got onto a byway.
Looking for a friendly bar to go and share some cheer.

Riding along an old back country road.
Looking for a place to quench my thirst.
I was beginning to feel like I was dragging a heavy load.
And the dryness in my mouth just kept getting worse.

It wasn't too long before I spied me a roadhouse on the side of the road.
I pulled into the parking lot just as happy as I could be.
It was filled with vintage Harley's that looked really good for being so old.
So I decided to go inside to see what I could see.

They were all sporting the colors of a club I had never heard of.
The Devils Brigade looked like a tough bunch to me.
The bartender looked real sweet and I think I was falling in love.
A mug of beer was only a nickel and I was in ecstasy.

The bartender kept looking at me with those dangerous eyes.
I felt a little uneasy because this place seemed kind of strange.
Just one more beer and I'd get on my bike and ride.
But I had no idea what she was going to arrange.

She told me that she had a room with a bed out in the back.
I told her that I wouldn't be here that long.
That's when she decided to go on the attack.
She came around the bar and gave me a wet juicy kiss that went on kind of long.

That's when I heard a man yell from the other side of the bar.
What the hell you think you're doing boy? It's time for you to die.
All I knew at that moment was that I needed to run and I needed to run far.
I rushed out of the bar as fast as I could and proceeded to start my ride.

I got out on the road cranking my throttle wishing I could fly.
I could hear other bikes starting behind me and I knew the chase was on.
I turned onto a side road that I saw up ahead hoping they'd just pass by.
The road turned out to be gravel and I wiped out and so my chase was done.

I must've got knocked out because I woke up in a ditch.
A couple of county deputies were looking down on me.
I guess they must've wondered how I got in such a fix.
So I tried to explain how this came to be.

I told them about the roadhouse and how I wound up on the run.
I told them how the gravel road put me in a ditch.
The deputy told me "there's a whole lot of holes in that story son.
I don't know if you're being sincere or giving me a pitch."

"First off, that roadhouse burned down around sixty years ago.
And it was sometime back in the sixties when this here road got paved.
Now I'm going to give you a breathalyzer and in it you're going to blow.
Then we're going to take you down for a blood test just to make sure you're OK."

They kept me overnight till my blood test came back.
After the results arrived they finally let me go.
I got on my motorcycle to go check out the facts.
So I headed back to that old country road.

After I arrived I couldn't believe what was there.
Just a charred out old foundation was all that was left to see.
I pulled into the weed covered parking lot with a lot of care.
I guess I'll never understand exactly what happened to me

Michael R. Roth

Archived 9/01/2015