Friday, March 10, 2006

What Ever Happened to PT?

I was over at KT's site and a comment on one of her posts made me remember someone.

This person, I'll just call PT, was a biker I met at work. Being that I was only a kid at the time of twenty or twenty one, [This was a time in Georgia when the drinking age went from eighteen up to twenty then twenty one then back down then up] I got to like and was befriended by the OLB who was not long out of prison. His chopp was nothing fancy at all and was shot in primer with light rust here and there on the few, now dull, chrome parts.
(On my comment on the post my foggy memory was thinking I was in my truck but alas I remember now I was in my car. But that is neither here nore there and the rest of the comment is true. I'm sure I left something out from then but it happened the way I commented pretty close).

But back to PT. He was a hardcore biker unlike others I'd known up to that point. We would go to some pretty rough places and if he got in a fight with someone, he didn't stand there and argue with them. He didn't say things like "I'm going to beat your ass MF!" or have a conversation about how tough he was. Nope! You piss him off and wham! it was on. No talking or bullshitting around; no warning except maybe a look. Maybe.
To be honest about it I'd have to say he both scared me and intrigued me as well. PT was the type that if he borrowed money from you to get him to payday; it was paid back before he did anything else. He paid his debts first then played with what was left if anything. He didn't whine about how life had done him wrong or make excuses for himself on anything. If he screwed up he said he screwed up.
He had several tattoos but the one I remember was the one he had on his hand. Actually it was on his fingers that said "FTW" in a crude fashion.
He had not been out of prison for long; maybe a few months I think. He wanted me to go drinking with him so he could get tanked and hopefully get lucky. First stop was to get him some beer on the way. PBR was what he liked and he sucked 'em down like water. At the brawlroom he drank more and more. He eyed this girl across the room on the dance floor and went up and started talking and dancing with her. Now I'd been in a few places but this was one of the roughest dives for sure and I was watching my back just trying to make it out alive.
But PT comes over and says this girl will go home with him but I have to take her friend. Her friend sits down at the table with us and she's drunk as hell. She's grabbing at things under the table and telling me what she'd like to do. Says she'll do it right there under the table if I want. Well, she's pretty beastly looking to me, she stinks and is dirty and she's drunk and well, I decline the offer. That's not my style no matter what she looked like and only knowing her for around twenty minutes is not me. I have to have some kind of connection first.
Anyway, I'm turned off by her drunken stupor that I can't get through in words what all else.
PT is pissed off because I won't spend time with her and the one he's with won't leave with him. By this time he can hardly stand up himself and I can see what these two girls are really doing is looking for a couple of suckers. They want to be friends as long as the money holds out and then move on. Then we see that they are there with two guys who they invite over to sit and drink with us. They start that business that their girl friends aren't good enough for us and all that mess. They start trying to get PT in a fight and I'm trying to diffuse the situation; that PT is just drunk. I get PT outside to leave and then he tries to get out of the car to go back in with his Buck knife in his hand. I tell him it's not worth his going back to prison for.
Finally I'm able to get PT to leave and I drive him home and have to get his sister and her old man to help get him to his room.
At work the following Monday he's not talking to me as he's all pissed off about the brawlroom and his missing out on the women going home with him. I keep trying to talk to him but he won't do anything but glower at me. One of the others tells me to just leave him alone. Well he's a friend and it bugs me that he won't listen. So I go up to him the next day and he draws back to punch me and out of no where I swing and hit him first. Luckily Ben steps in between us and keeps me from getting my butt kicked. The look on PT's face is nothing like I'd seen before aimed at me. As soon as I'd swung I knew I'd made a mistake. But he walked away. He just walked away.

The next Monday he comes in after being at the brawlroom again and he makes a B-line towards me and I think "This is it, I'm Dead." The look on his face and the tone of his voice when he says he wants to talk to me has me pretty worried. Then he begins to smile and grabs me and gives me a big bear hug. He tells me that after seeing those two girls again before he got drunk that he can see I did him a huge favor. He also tells me that he respects me for taking that swing at him like I did and... For keeping him from doing something stupid with that knife that night. He said that only a true friend would go that far. He was upset that he had a restraining order saying that he could not see his own young son until he was eighteen. And then only if his son initiated it. The only time I heard him give an excuse about anything at all.
I hope he got to see his son again.

He gave me that knife when he moved along and I still have it in a drawer. It wasn't long after that I quit going to such places. Maybe he helped me too, to see the road I didn't want to take.

(P.S. I sit here thinking that for some reason, all my best friends give me a knife when we part ways on good terms. Why is that I wonder?)


Mr. Althouse said...

That's a great story. I don't usually take the time right away to read longer posts as I scan my list of blogs (I know, I know, this is coming from a rather long-winded writer - so I have a double standard, sue me!), but every now and then I'll get sucked in by the first couple of sentences, and next thing I know, here I am writing a rather long-winded comment! I tend to read blogs like newspapers - read a little to see whats interesting and come back and finish reading them later. And like a newspaper, some stories get read once and all the way through. This is one of those.

It's got excitment, friendship, suspense, mystery, a twist, and a moral. It takes what many would consider to be the counterculture or even the underworld and puts a face on it - you give it humanity. You show that societies throw-aways are real people with real feelings - you show that they are not forgotten by everyone.

Thanks for sharing it with us,


KT Did said...

Boy Wooley, PT sounds a bit like my ex of 20 years ago. Looks like we are both very thankful for it. Lifes' every changing reality always brings us some great lessons learned with honor. This was a good memory to read. Thanks...
p.s. Put Crusin' back on for you. Hope you enjoy it...maybe it will bring you back to some more great memory stories for us to read.

KT Did said...

I forgot to add:

I still have my ex's buck knife too! Ha! Honest I do!

WooleyBugger said...

Wow Mike, I really appreciate that comment on the story. This is a true story but I have written several fictional ones as well and true ones too. Even my fiction draws from real life people that I have known.
I had an ongoing tale at GarageChoppers but GC has been pulled for revamping.
I hope you didn't find to much need for the red pencil.

WooleyBugger said...

Thanks KT, Lessons can come from the most unsupecting places, events and people can't they. Funny how people can have simularities in life isn't it? I know that some things I've been through are hard for people to believe. Like the old saying goes, "Truth is sometimes stranger than fiction."

Also, have you ever looked back at your life and been able to see that maybe you were at that place or knew someone briefly for a reason? Maybe it was your kind word or action that saved a life and you had no idea. At the time you are blind to it but looking back can see you helped someone in a big way,or they you.
Almost like it was all mapped out and it was up to you to change the outcome.
(Jeez, you and Mike make me think about things).
I don't want to be corny here but I have lightened my heart and soul over the years to some degree. I'm not a real book smart man. A life learning sort would be more me I guess. Some of the things that would annoy most I just roll with these days. I've had those that are close to me say I have more patience than an elephant. Then there are the one's who think I'm a push over. I'd bet many of them could not have handled what I've had to deal with. For those there are words from Monte Python "Ahhh, I spit at chu"

I saw that you put the Crusin song back up last night. When I saw it and heard it again I couldn't quit smiling cause you did that. Thanks a bunch.

Hey! You bring your buck and I'll bring mine on the ride.

KT Did said...

2 bucks make a ride! Must mean something...we will see what it might bring. I do think of people often that I have met in the past and remember for some reason or another. Usually it is something I have received from the meeting and it makes sense when it happens, even if it is years from the date of introduction. Its kindred spirits I believe. We all have them in places we don't expect. They come to us when needed and what we do with them is up to us. I think my soul has lightened up a lot also. They say age does that, but I think people help that also. The Dream Ride of yours is one I think we are kindred on and we will get it together one day. Its fate. Fate works for all of us.

WooleyBugger said...


I know what you mean about kindred spirits. Having good people around you makes life's problems much easier to deal with.

This Dream Ride could do so much for people and each time I see one of these children, it makes me want to do it that much more.
I tried it with concert promotion with the help of several people to whom I can never repay for the effort. Even after all the work I did on it for better than two years, it didn't come together like I'd hoped. Media and others trusted to get the word out didn't come through as promised. The advertising was the weak link as the musicians were absoulutely fantasic. We also got stabbed in the back by city leaders who booked another group for the same weekend on short notice. By the time we found out about it there were only two or three days to get more media out on ours. We didn't have the money to make a heavy last ditch effort for radio spots and paper ads. All the concert goers had a confusion about who was playing when. Both suffered from it.

But the Dream Ride is different as it would be the first of it's kind.
I wonder if Jay Leno would ride with us? Nah! I doubt it.
I could call it "The Wooleys Childrens Victory Ride" and maybe get a Victory Motorcycle for the purpose. Nah! Victory would never give me a bike to ride and raffle off at the end of the ride.
Guess I'll keep looking for a good deal on a Shovel Head Harley. I'm afraid A Panhead would never make that sort of fast paced run.