There
was a time when if you said you were stuck in
When I was here last I was a college student, covering a
When I limped Libertad into town early Sunday evening, I was
a beaten man. Sore from crashing, worried about the bike and not really
knowing
if I wanted to continue the trip, I checked into a little motel on the
outskirts of town that probably didn’t exist 15 years ago when I was
here last.
In the morning I took the bike into the Harley dealership and
was hoping against hope they would be able to fix her and not gouge me,
though
they had every right to.
Guys that work at the service desk of a Harley dealership
have one of the tougher jobs. The phone rings constantly with unhappy
people, upset
their motorcycle is broken and even though they don’t have any clue
what is
wrong, believe the problem can be fixed in an afternoon and are even
more mad
when it isn’t.
One of Harley-Davidson’s rules is that if you are out of
town, you go first. Kevin looked at the bike and assured me they would
get it
in and looked at.
The handlebars were twisted, as was the gear shifter and I
was looking at several hundred dollars and at least two days, and that
was if
they had the parts in stock.
For some reason, though, I wasn’t upset or even worried.
Kevin’s demeanor was so soothing I just figured it would get done when
it got
done. I was ready to hike back to the hotel, when he asked another
customer, a
local, to give me a ride.
I went and got breakfast, talking with the waitress about the
town and how it has grown and I didn’t get the usual progress is evil
schpiel. She was
actually glad the town had gotten
bigger.
I strolled around downtown for a while and it seemed friendlier
than most big cities I have visited. It was a quick pace, like most
cities, but
didn’t have the faceless energy most possess. People walked, but not
hurriedly
and they smiled when they passed.
By the time I got back to the motel it was late afternoon and
Kevin had called to tell me the bike was ready. They were able to bend
back the
metal and save me a bunch of money by doing so.
The general manager of the store picked me up and after I
paid for the bike noticed they washed it for free. I was reeling.
In such a good mood I took the bike out for a little spin
around town and as I was riding down the street I noticed a bar that
had a
Texas Hold Em tournament that began in an hour.
I walked in and found the tournament was free. No entry fee,
you got some chips and played until they were gone. First place was
dinner for
two at a nice restaurant.
Among the 40 people playing was a woman named, Diane. She was
in her early 30s, fit and with a touch of masculinity.
Living in
She told me that
“Then I wouldn’t have been able to be myself in a place like
this,” she said. “Now there are a couple of places I know I can’t go
to, but it
is a lot better.”
She was a regular in this neighborhood bar and no one seemed
to care. When she was knocked out of the tournament, she got a
conciliatory hug
and kiss from her partner. It made me open my wallet and look at the
picture of
my girlfriend taped inside. I missed her just a little bit more.
When the morning came I packed the bike and headed out of
town. A town I was sorry I couldn’t spend more time in.