Had a beer with Doc on Friday night. I had not seen The Surgeon since the '80s. He was nicknamed The Surgeon because of the way he carved up opponent's faces with his hockey stick back in the '70s. After he was banned from playing organized hockey for life he set up a home-based pharmacy. That was when The Surgeon became known as plain old Doc.
My hand still hurts from reaching across the sticky pub table to greet him. "Doc! Hey, easy on the hand motherfucker. How the fuck are you?"
He gave me my hand back after he squeezed it just a little harder for me calling him a motherfucker. "Doing fucking excellent Beer you old cocksucker. Me and Betty and my oldest girl Charlie are down for the drag meet over in Cedar City. Charlie is racing rails now. My boys all turned out great but how can you be more proud of a teenager when you have one who can run down the track just shy of 190 mph? You coming out to the show?"
"I was going to drive to the Downs and watch a new claim of Grog's win me some money. I have never been to a drag race."
Doc looked at me like I just told him I had never been given a blow job. "You got to be kidding. The way you drive and you've never been to a drag race? Fuck the horses. Get yourself a pit pass and make sure you come by our rig. It's the one with Get Outta My Way Racing painted on the side of the trailer behind it. They got a beer garden that'll be filled with big titty girlies and if you need some weed I sell the strongest, tastiest bud on the entire motherfucking planet. You want a fucking beer?"
He talked me into it. When I got home from the pub I phoned up Curly who agreed to come along after I mentioned the magic words big titties. "I haven't been to the races in years since I got banned for life from ever stepping foot in Ashcroft again years ago. Remember when we used to all be a menace to society?"
"You're still a menace to society Curly. Pick me up around noon and I'll buy you lunch at the pub before we go."
We had lunch in Cedar City. The pub must be the biggest of its kind in all B.C. We had a few pints of their homebrew stout with burgers that were as slippery as Betty's thighs after a night at the roller rink before she decided Doc was her man.
After we talked to Doc, Betty and Charlie, who is the prettiest Charlie I have ever seen by the way, in the shade of their half million dollar motorhome, (and Curly had filled a knapsack with Doc's weed) we found the beer garden. The beer garden was overflowing with wasted bikers doing their best to donate all their money to the kid's charity in charge of selling beer for $4 a can. We joined in and watched the cars and girls and the beer disappear.
Watching horses run is more my speed but I sure have to admit that watching the funny cars run quarter miles in 6 seconds was a fucking rush. But the highlight was watching the souped up Harleys go just as fast on two wheels. I cannot imagine what it is like to ride a motorcycle at well over 200 mph. Now I have seen it done.
When Curly was checking out the crowd with binoculars he elbowed me in the ribs, gave me the glasses, directed my gaze high into the bleachers and asked, "Isn't that Lucy Lips?" Sure enough it was Lucy, Cedar City's very own Porn Star. Curly rushed to the beer garden and climbed the cracked bleacher steps at great personal risk due to his state of near total inebriation to deliver a couple beers to the object of his every perverted desire.
When he came back his Hells Angel t-shirt had been signed with Lucy's trademark signature - both the 'L's spurting the goo of her trade.
It was just about dark when I got in line to buy some more beer and heard the words I hate to hear more than the word "guilty." The girls selling beer were chanting, "We sold all the beer! We sold all the beer!" They had sold 9600 beers.
We got the fuck out of there before the bikers found out the beer had run out. There was going to be trouble and I had lots of beer ready to be drank at home. Curly and I got to it. Beer does not drink itself.