I became a Hells Angel as soon as I careened over a speedbump and knocked off a pipe under my car I now classify as one of the "Important Pipes."
I didn't look much different, but looks can be deceiving. You could hear the roaring sputtering fracas that became my vehicle coming for about ten miles. Which seemed like twenty miles because it took me so long to arrive. My speedometer topped out at 50 due to the major hitch in my giddyup.
I drove the whole way home on County Route 202 given my fear of getting shot driving 50 mph on I-287. I flashed my gang sign to all the bikers I passed except there were mainly SUVs and four-door sedans given this is créme de la suburbia.
When my guy at the garage told me he needed to order a part from Brooklyn so I should come back tomorrow, I said that it was a good thing I drove a decrepit VW bug in the 80s and was thus skilled in the art called Barely Making It Over a Hill By Getting A Running Start and Flooring It.
You should be happy to know I'm reformed. My wild days of mad chopper disorder are over. And it only cost me $324.