Don't you luv a happy ending!!!!

 

I dont pick up girls on my bike. They get on by themselves

 

Uh-oh it's the dangerous brothers! Hey, if you guys ever get out of your moms basement make sure you use some sun screen.

 

dude, get over yourself.

people out here in the real world have real world experiences, and are into all sorts of ****.

try getting yourself mixed up with a broad who knows something other than missionary sometime, it'll blow your mind.

 

I had a '69 BSA Lightening that was my only transport for several years in the early '70's in Seattle. I was at the Eastlake Zoo tavern drinking $1 pitchers of Brew 66 one night and met this gal, a bit on the beefy side but with a pretty face and huge jugs. It was a hot summer night and she wanted to go for a ride and then back to her place. We get about two blocks and she yells that she wants to stop at a store to buy wine. She comes out with a gallon of Red Mountain, unscrews the top and takes a big swig and tosses the cap.
We headed through the ravine road, Interlaken Blvd. on Capitol Hill and I was pretty toasted and hot on the gas. MIssed one hairpin and off the road we went into the bushes. She gets tossed off, then gets up laughing her *** off, howling that she didn't spill one drop of wine. One bent footpeg was the only damage to the bike.
Woke up the next morning with a huge headache, sneaked out and never saw her again. She wasn't gf material, but fun to ride.

 

Sounds like a work of the devil, no thanks.

 

If you are religious that is great. More power to ya. I admire you and wish I could get myself to stay on that path. But I gotta ask ya: What the hell are you doing reading a thread titled "What is your best story of picking up girls on your bike"? Let alone posting in such a thread? You had to have known this thread was going to go down a religiously offensive path.

 

Many years ago in Stamford, CT, I was riding home from work. Stopped at a red light and saw some chick on the sidewalk talking to some dude who used to come into the restaurant I worked at. I remember our exchange like it was yesterday. Before the light turned green she yelled out, "hey, which way are you heading?" I said, "south end." As convincing as she could be, she said, "would't you rather head the east side." I laughed and said, "I have no reason to go to the east side." As she walked toward the bike she said, "you do now, I need a ride". Pretending I was pissed, I said, "hop on and try not to fall off". We both waved later to Frenchy (called him Frenchy cause he always used to eat french toast at the restaurant), and rode off.

I dated her for about a year and remained friends for 13 years after that. If it wasn't for some continuous **** going on in her life I probably would of married her. Lost touch with her about 12 years ago. We did a lot of fun **** together, even taught her how to ride. She was one fun crazy bitch...I still miss her.

 

I must remember that Americans cannot grasp sarcasm, my bad.

 

Dickey. Your story reminded me of my days in the bar biz.

I used to own a bar/restaurant back in the 90's. was in my late 20's and early 30's. Had a blast and lots of women at my disposal. On quite a few nights there were multiple women there who I was messing with. Most of the time they didn't know about each other, other times they did. Some didn't care, others turned into crazed maniacs. I never worried when they all were in the bar. Out on the floor it's loud and girls usually stick with their group of friends or are BSing with some dude. It was the ladies room I worried about!! That's where chicks talk and get their info...doesn't matter if they know each other or not. They'll tell their life story in the ladies room. But what are the chances that every chick you're doing will walk into that ladies room at the same time? You'd be surprised and lose money if you bet on it. If the bar didn't have a ladies room, I would never have been caught.

So, this one particular night 3 of them walked into the bar, and wouldn't you know it, somehow all 3 had to pee, fix their makeup, and do their hair at the same time. My loyal friend and waitress, Jeannie, sometimes would go in the ladies room and try to steer the conversation in another direction if my name came up. Not this time though. The ladies talked and the cat as out of the bag. One was pissed and left the bar, the other was pissed but stayed and gave me the evil eye all night, and the 3rd, she came right to me and told everything that was said. She was cool with it, thought it was funny and even predicted that the one who walked out would "do me again". She was right, and she was a keeper.

Ah, the good ole days.