Biker, The Blues and The Runaway Boa

High Dive and it was cool actually. Big ass chandelier over the bar with friendly people and good late night snacking. Where ever this gal lived it had to be close because when she arrived just about everyone knew her. My bike was the conversation piece of the moment that night which was ok. I spied the juke and handed Boa The Babe who by the way looks way different without the make up and the boa but still attractive none the less. I handed her a five spot and said that because she had such good taste in music maybe she would choose the songs. She nodded and off she went. So here we were in the heart of Motown basically and what does this woman play? Aretha. You could see the small crowd giving an acceptance hoist to the song, “Respect”. This place be cooking now Jack! So we continued our time together talking about music, bikes, and places we had been. She asked me if I would take her for a ride and I thought touché woman you scored on me with your no free conversations routine so now take this: Yes for sure but no one rides for free, gas, grass, or ass is price to pay. She laughed and said ya ok but you’re not at work where they make you move the drinks. It was a good yuk between us. At one point she asked me where I was staying and I said Oh Sugar! (not really oh sugar but for this magazine and in writing it’s oh sugar but you get the drift) For the first time in a long time I forgot to check into the next motel before going off on an excursion. I looked at her and thought well this will sound contrived but it wasn’t and I said I forgot to get a place. She laughed like hell, I mean belly rolled laughed. I don’t know what was going on inside her head but if she thought I was so enamored by her beauty that I blew a reservation she would have been dead wrong. I just forgot. That can happen when you live free and easy, you just flow with the moments. She finally quit laughing and I didn’t even try to explain how this can happen because I was sure she would start laughing again. I would have to think that any lady in the fine arts business gets all kinds of BS lines and the last thing I wanted to be was on that list, life, go figure! She said you seem safe enough and you can come to my place if you want to but I need to tell you about my boa. I remember vividly saying oh honey you don’t have to tell me anything about your boa baby you know how to work a boa. She said no I have a seven foot boa named Babe. I said what? She said really, a yellow boa, seven feet long. I said well I really do like you but this dude isn’t going anywhere where a snake that size lives. She tried to convince me that it would be ok but I was dead sure I would be on my way, where to I certainly did not know but not to her place. I did a double shot of Jaegermeister, paid up and went outside to my trusty dusty scooter. It turned right over and I didn’t know where I was going actually but I wound up in a suburb named Warren Michigan. Still no place to stay but then I spied a for sale sign in front of a house with no lights on. I wheeled up into the driveway, took my bed roll off the bike and sat it on the front porch. I looked into the bay window and no furniture inside so I figured that I wouldn’t be freaking somebody out at zero dark thirty in the morning or some hour like that if I grabbed some zzz’s on their porch. Man, a freaking seven foot boa, are you kidding me? What a freaked up night and no motel to boot, man this sucked. (and no the word is not freaking but you get the drift) A freaking boa people, a yellow seven foot humongous snake, are you freaking kidding me?