The Biker’s Obsession
Now, it looked almost domestic, like a strange kind of family home.
Several long wooden tables had been pushed together in the center of the room. They were completely covered with massive platters of hot foodscrambled eggs, piles of crispy bacon, stacks of toast, and large pots of steaming, strong black coffee. About fifteen huge, rugged-looking Reapers were already sitting down, digging into the food with large appetites. Their voices were loud, rough, and full of deep laughter. A few womenthe "old ladies" of the clubmoved around the space comfortably. They were refilling coffee mugs, talking easily, and trading playful jokes with the men.