Leather Chaps and Dreadlocks

Last night I saw my friend Toni. I've known her for about 10 years and she's moving to Denver at the end of July. I'll be sad when she leaves because she's one of the few people I can feel totally comfortable around. I blame her for my lack of maturity in the humor department.

Toni talked me into going to see this blue grass band. Not normally my thing, I was a little hesitant, but decided to go for the experience. It was in south Minneapolis, at this biker lounge. It was this strange mix of bikers on Harleys and washed up hippies with dreadlocks...and Toni and I. The guy that stood next to me at one point was so involved in the music that he hit me several times in the face with his dreadlocks. He smelled too. I now know what it smells like when leather and patchouli are mixed. Disgusting.

But overall, it was fun. I enjoy the biker crowd. They are usually kind to me since, I have been told, I look like Little Bo Peep and they take pity on me. One biker told me he would pay me $100 for my coat. I'm not sure what that meant since it was pretty warm out and he had a nice leather one. I laughed and pretended he was funny. But truthfully, I wanted the $100. I'm poor, and really, who needs a lined vest with faux fur on the hood? Especially since I probably paid less than $30 for it while I was working at Gap. I wasn't thinking on that one.

Here is an adorable picture of Toni and I a couple years ago, clearly up to no good as usual.