A Justice of the Peace is called to perform the wedding ceremony at a large outdoor gathering of hippies. Everyone goes to great lengths to tell him that this is a cool, relaxed, far out gathering, with no normal rules.
When it comes time to the ceremony he is confronted by two similarly dressed individuals, both with long hair completely covering their faces. Not wishing to commit a faux pas he leans towards the one who he assumes is the female, and asks "Forgive me for asking, but are you the one who has the menstrual cycle?"
From under the mass of hair comes the reply, in a male voice, "Actually I ride a Honda."
Wow, SEVEN pages from this little story. A record, perhaps.
Re: being a biker. In the summer of 1998 I had just flown over to Montreal to pick up my (then) dream bike, a BMW R1100RS, which me and the missis then rode home to BC. Shortly thereafter I was at a family gathering and met a couple of the missis' distant cousins, both of whom fitted the description of 'biker' (big, burly, no strangers to lard, and an abundance of facial hair). Still lost in the rapture of my new bike we got talking about motorcycles at which point I mentioned that I was a biker too.
"You ain't a biker if you don't ride a Harley," was their comment. The conversation turned to trivial things, like the weather, and that was that.
