Samuel, or Sam as he prefers to be called, is currently in crisis. No, no one died, nothing like that, but, he can’t seem to find a fucking date. He’s been to every single biker bar one could imagine, but no hot chicks!

Sam revs his engine as he waits for the light to turn green. When his bike makes a particularly loud burst of noise he growls back playfully. As soon as the light changes he picks up his foot and zooms forward. Riding always makes him feel alive and calms him down. Out of nowhere, the sound of a siren fills his ears and he turns his head to look back briefly. A cop, great. Sam pulls over to the shoulder of the highway with a huff and rests his elbows on the handles of his bike. “What seems to be the trouble officer?”

“Do you know how fast you were going sir?”

Sam pulls in a sharp breath, he knows he was speeding, but it just feels good! He pops the visor up from his helmet to get a better look at the approaching officer. Old and cranky. No chance getting out of this with a little flirting “yeah, sorry” He digs through his pocket for his license and vehicle registration to hand to the officer.

Sam drives off gritting his teeth and cursing under his breath; “$1,000?! You’ve got to be kidding! I wasn’t even going that fast!” He looks up and sees an advertisement for a new restaurant in just the next town over. What’s the harm? He needs a pick-me up anyway.

After about 12 miles of driving Sam pulls into the parking lot of the spiffy new restaurant. He drums his fingers on the handlebars as he waits for a car to pull out of a parking spot. As soon as the car moves out of the way he zips in and takes the spot before anyone else can. Sam reaches under his chin to find the buckle of his helmet and unclasp it. He opens the door and gives an approving nod to the neat space. The hostess leads him to his seat but he quickly hops up to go to the bathroom and accidentally crashes into a server. “oh my god! I’m so-” He looks at the server’s face and his heart stops “-sorry..”