A Short Story by Ben McNutt
Sometimes a man drinks entirely too much tequila and finds himself in a dive bar in Pasadena singing Hotel California with a one-armed trucker named Pete Ravenski. And sometimes a one-armed trucker named Pete Ravenski turns out to be a real son-of-a-bitch.
Tequila. It’s a coy flirt on the way down and a real ball buster the morning after. You got hustled, asshole. And now your 1972 R75/5 BMW is in the back of a semi-trailer headed to Albuquerque.
Whoever said you need two arms to drive a motorcycle lacked imagination.