This weekend there's some sort of big motorcycle gathering going on here in Morgantown, the best part of which, as far as I'm concerned, is the big fireworks show they put on last night, which I watched right out of our bedroom window. Very cool.
But yesterday, as I was walking up to the office, I saw a couple of bikers walking along ahead of me. They weren't dressed in leathers, or anything, but with bluejeans, t-shirts, and maybe a bandanna--but they had an obvious biker look, if you know what I mean.
So there they are, ahead of me, trying to figure out the sign for Bent Willey's, a bar near campus. "Is that a bar?" the man said to the woman.
Breaking my usual rule about not talking to strangers, I told them it was. "There's so many college students around," I said, "that every other door you see around here belongs to a bar of some kind."
The guy said to the woman, "Yeah, you used to open some of them up, and close 'em down too, huh?" and she laughed and talked for a minute about having looked for some of her old hangouts in Sunnyside. "Where's the Dungeon?" she asked, "but that was twenty years ago."
Our paths started to part company, and I told the two of them to take care as I walked up to Colson Hall. "Well, I'm off to visit my old sorority house," said the woman as I walked away.
And I had a different impression of WVU sororities, as the biker lady went off to visit her old house.