Bad Girl Band Backers

I Become a Bad Girl Band Backer

Saturday was very busy. We usually limit ourselves to just one activity a day but sometimes activities just happen.

I tried my best to be excused from the band trip to a competition a few hours from us but Red wanted me there to “show my support”. But come on. 5 hours each way for less than 13 minutes on the field?

It seemed like a lot to ask but no way could I wriggle out of being anything less than a total Band Backer.

Which is how I found myself in the back of a brand new Tahoe with leather seats cruising the highways with 4 other ladies having an absolute blast! The driver couldn't “caravan” with the buses because, as she said, “I can’t drive that slow!”. Darn!

We were getting to know one another while we sang off key to the music we’d grown up with.

We laughed so hard we had to make extra pit stops. One lady even had to use her inhaler – more than once!

I’m really thankful that Red insisted I go. Not only did I meet some new friends, laughed until I had to pee and munch out on typically forbidden foods, I got to see what the big deal is about marching band competitions.

I had no idea! There is a lot of effort and thought put into these things. Our band has really improved since I last saw them, placing 2nd in their division. Impressive actually.

We watched some of the other bands perform. Those in the upper divisions – wow! I wish I could give details that explained the thrill of all of those instruments, the drill team twirling flags and the use of lighting, costumes and theatrics to put on their presentation.

After the award ceremony we saw our kids head to the busses while we climbed back into the Tahoe and went in search of Starbucks sustenance for the return trip.

More singing, laughter and giggles ensued to keep the driver awake. Once we returned to town we went to Denny’s to hang out until the buses returned. I’d forgotten what the 2AM crowd at Denny’s consisted of.

Good-grief. If I have to wear something like that to date I’m just staying out of the pool.

Right after the waitress left with our drink order a group of bikers around our age came in. The largest guy of the bunch reminded me of the Leroy Brown from the song by Jim Croce we’d recently sung.

Maybe I was staring as I thought about Leroy Brown. He was huge. And he was right next to me. We couldn’t be sitting much closer if I’d been at his table.

As he sat down he said to us, "don't look at my a_ _".

I’m proud of myself.

I refrained from making a comment - but then I noticed what was in my hands.

Of their own will, they were twisting the end of the straw wrapper.

I watched as it came up to my lips and my head turned and took aim.

As the wrapper arced toward the target I knew it was going to connect. How could it not hit such a fathead in such close proximity?

My 2nd to last thought just before it hit was, “S _ _ t! What have I done? The guy’s a giant biker dude”.

My last thought as it connected was, “oh well, this is going to be a great story”!

The wrapper bounced off, rolled down his back, which by the way, had considerably more hair than his head.

I sat stunned by my behavior and looked around at the other ladies.

My new friend next to me was laughing so I joined in. The ladies across from me were laughing but not sure why. I couldn’t quit laughing. I was in hysterics. I hid my face in my hands, giggling afraid to look at the table next to me. No one could say why we were laughing.

Now there are some real horror stories about biker dudes, giant and otherwise and then there are those crazy romances that began with just such absurdity.

He just wasn’t that imaginative.

Giant Biker Dude made a lewd comment about blowing something else, followed with how I should be grateful he doesn’t hit women. Like any of the other biker guys would have let him? He made a few more lewd comments while he inhaled his platter and then he went outside to smoke his cigarettes.

Apparently it was good for him.

The last guy to leave their table leaned down and said to just me, “Now that’s going to be a hell of a story”.

Someday, I’d like to hear his version.