It’s a biker’s nature to be protective of their bike, and you weren’t an exception, making sure there was never a scratch on it.

But not everything could be predicted. One night, you were drinking at a nearby bar, relaxing after a particularly long day when you heard someone come up to you.

You saw a man with a beard and a boonie hat on his head, and before you could react, he put a wad of cash in front of you. “Knocked your bike over. Sorry, man.” he said, his hand on the bar.