Okay, this was getting less and less friendly. I was now seriously wondering what I'd walked into. Was this bar actually some sort of gang hang-out?<br/><br/>The brunette stank of oil and sweat as she sat next to me. I really didn't like the way she looked at me, and the way she spoke was even worse. At least the blonde was being polite enough....<br/><br/>"Uh, n... no, uh, Granny did... uh that is... Granny died and left me...." my voice tailed off. She wasn't interested in how I got the pink leathers. I had bought them in a fit of femininity, because I wanted the boys in the cars to know that a girl had just gone roaring past them, and if they played their cards right, maybe they could be the next thing between her thighs. Amazingly, it had actually worked a couple of times.<br/><br/>But here, amongst these women, it seemed that femininity was not highly prized. I was beginning to wonder if they were all dykes? Just my luck. I had to wander into a bar full of biker dykes. "Uh... I ... look I'm sorry, I think I made a mistake. I guess I'll just leave, Okay?"<br/><br/>I placed the bottle of beer back on the counter untouched and made to move away from the bar.