“Excuse me, sir, could you tell me if you have a pay phone?” she asked. He just pointed to the rear of the bar and said, “Through that doorway, ...ittle lady.” The staccato clicking of her spiked heel boots was unmistakable. The talking in the back room quieted and nearly stopped as she approached the doorway. In the back room, she saw 6 or 7 men, very obviously roughnecks and bikers. They were dressed in tight leather jeans, motorcycle tee shirts, and riding boots. A rather ominous looking guy. Slumped back with 2 huge feet firmly on the carpet below, his masculine legs spread wide. His grin. His chest strong and matted hair on it in contrast to the smooth boy sat on the other end of the 3seater. Wearing black Lonsdale boxers and a silver chain around his neck every inch the chav. He too was slumped, drained from a week’s work and an afternoons drinking. Carl spotted me starring and ordered me to get myself a beer and join them. He slid over to sit in the middle and I took his spot. More

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