The Biker Who Revved at Me Turned Off His Engine—Then Did Something That Ruined My Stereotypes
I’m already late picking up Mateo from school when I get stuck behind this wall of motorcycles at a crosswalk. Loud. Leathered. Covered in skull patches and scowls. One guy’s got flames tattooed up both arms and a beard that could house birds. They’re lined up like a blockade, and I’m thinking—great, some kind of…