#46 “Faded Photographs – Faded Love”

Dear Don1001, 

I was going through stuff for the memoirs, when I came across a picture of Debbie, the first “love” of my life. Although our first date was technically statutory rape, our “hook-up” consisted of Debbie picking me up after work getting me quite drunk and fucking the Hell out of me. I was 16 and Debbie was 21, the younger sister of “Baldy”, the president of the Grim Reapers MC (Motorcycle Club). This group of semi-outlaw bikers (semi because some of them had jobs) skirted the law at the least and at the most, literally stomped all over it. When I got up the next morning after being pushed on a bed and having my clothes being ripped off, I was sore in places I never knew existed and I was “Baldy’s” little sister’s “old man”. There are worse things, when you’re 16, than being the boy toy of a 21-year biker chick that had 36X30X37 measurements on a muscular five foot, four inch frame with jet-black hair and a Betty Page face. Although I was 16, I worked a 40-week as a night manager of a fast food joint, plus I went to High School full time, so I came and went basically as I pleased. This meant that I sort of started living with Debbie during the last part of my junior year of High School. And I have to admit my new living arrangement raised my standing among my male peers and some curiosity from a few fellow female students. When you get dropped off at High School in the morning by a sexy, tough looking chick in a tricked out 64 Chevy Coupe, they don’t ask if you got laid, they know you got laid. And in their minds it was sex beyond anything they could ever imagine and they were right. God Bless Debbie for letting me forego the sex of inexperienced teenagers, she told what she wanted, when she wanted it, and when she was satisfied. (My worldly knowledge of certain things in the early part of my life, benefited greatly from having had the company of experienced and financially able older women.) Because of “Baldy’s’” sponsorship I was allowed to go on “Runs” and was sort of like a little brother and as long as I didn’t fuck with any of the Brothers or their “Old ladies”, I was protected. And for the next few years, I was an extended family member of the Grim Reapers, which meant I had access at times to the Outlaws and other MCs during meet-ups or “Runs”. This occasional brush with genuine Outlaw Bikers exposed me to real life skills like learning how to grade Marijuana and Methamphetamine, the going prices for various stolen items and how instantaneous efficient violence at times does have it place. The cool thing about my whole time around Bikers, never once did they pressure me into becoming a Biker and never once did I ever want to become a Biker, I was an accidental tourist, but we respected each other. Bikers are much more intelligent and socially aware than most people would imagine and I had many a learned discussions and debates on various eclectic topics. But after my reaching adulthood our romance began to fade and we parted on slightly less than amicable terms but Donnie that’s a memory that might be best to leave alone.

                              Better to Love and not lose body parts, Brother Gregory

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