I lean out the window and yell back, “Can’t you tell, I’m nursing on a ailing vehicle here!” There is an application of accelerator, and then a buzzing sound. Then a long-haired guy on a souped up mo-ped rolls up beside me, he takes one look and says, “I see what you mean, withall the rattling I didn’t realize that was the WeenerMan’s Rodney-Mobile.”
I nod, “Sometimes you make do,” then taking a look back at the pack of machines and riders I can’t help but ask, “So your normal bikes where are they?” The long-haired guy shakes his head, “Back at the Sahara Club, we got hearing all the conservation stuff, so we got out all the mini-bikes and mopeds we had when we were kids, revved them up, and this is our contribution to health, safety, and well-being of the Township.” “And we’ll be seeing you on those jobbies from here on?” I ask. The long-haired stares at me in disbeleif, “Bouncers No!” he proclaims, “We are the Sahara Club! This is our Public Service Afternoon, Probably for the rest of the decade.” “Appreciate the thought anyways,” I give them the thumbs-up. The long-haired guy nods, “Always glad to be community-minded, you know,” With a nod he motions to the rest of the Club and the bikes all whir and churn by me, leaving Rodney intheir limestone dust.