WITHIN SECONDS, THE ONCE vacant parking lot is filled with motorcycles, the engines throttling and their headlights shining on me much like a police officer's flashlight. I feel incredibly exposed as Sinclair parks his motorcycle right beside me. All I can do is stand there like a deer in headlights as he shuts off his motorcycle and slowly starts to get off, his eyes focused on me the entire time he does so.
As Sinclair is walking up to me, I see more headlights pulling into the bar's parking lot. It's a light blue four-seater convertible filled with women. The top is down and you can hear the girls in the car yelling over the motorcycle engines, talking to the guys as they search for a place to park. These girls are what the guys refer to as, "stress relievers." After a long day handlin
