I was heading down Route 54 toward Liberal, Kansas

I could taste the beer that they serve at Rosas

My vintage GTO cruising at about eighty-five

The road was long; it had been a hell of a drive

Then in my rear view mirror I spied a small speck

It was getting ever larger and I said “what the heck”

I couldn’t make it out but it was traveling fast

I punched the GTO and soon the dye was cast

Within minutes the speck turned into a jet black Harley

The driver was a big guy and downright gnarly

And as it passed me I could see that it was a Fat Boy Lo

With a passenger on board which seemed apropos

The passenger was tucked in behind him to protect from the breeze

A gal she was, probably the guy’s main squeeze

In a flash they were gone as if I had some social disease

They were doing over a hundred or so, if you please  

On arriving in Liberal I pulled into Rosas Canteen

 The Fat Boy Lo was parked out front; on its tank the name Colleen

I walked inside and saw a sight I’ll never forget

At the bar sat this old geezer and by his side a geezerette

They were sipping some brewskies and laughing real loud

They must have been eighty, she appeared well endowed

Black leathers they wore from their head to their toe

 As I took a seat he ordered two shots of Jim Crow

The waitress brought my beer as I stood at the end of the bar

Some guy in the corner was playing an acoustic guitar  

Just then they both rose and headed for the door

Walking briskly with chains jingling, across the bar floor

The guy passed without a word, I think I heard a small sigh

She was a few feet behind him as she passed by

She reached over and quickly patted my butt

Turned and winked and then out the door she did strut

They were nowhere to be seen when I left the bar

I thought to myself they couldn’t have gone far

Then I see across the street a motel named the Great Plains Chateau

Parked in front of one of the rooms is the Harley Fat Boy Lo

I think to myself maybe they checked in to sleep off the drinks

    At their age they probably aren’t interested in high jinks

Then I said to myself think again dummy, c’mon

They're shacked up for the night and are probably getting it on.

©Copyright Charlie Gragg October 23, 2010