THE OLD RATS

originally in Bruiser

The Old Rats motorcycle gang stops downtown for brunch every Sunday. They don’t start fights or sell drugs while they’re here. They don’t even go crazy vis-à-vis the bottomless mimosas. This one’s eating a duck confit croque madame. She’s having chilled cantaloupe soup with yogurt and mint leaf.  There’s hot habanero bacon jam on their leather jackets. Still, they are given a wide berth, welcomed like migratory birds of prey. We know about the terror they inspire out in the county, but what can we do? The sheriff is at the counter drinking his sissified frappuccino, not making eye contact. We know who they are.