The rule is in surgical medicine is that bikes don’t kill people, cars kill people on bikes. These guys come in destroyed for life and in those circumstances you see them for who they really are. Most of the motorcyclists I’ve operated on were decent, gainfully employed men who demonstrated a high moral character. Dealing with having a body that’s been ruined for life takes character.

However, the criminal bikers, the assholes with the vests and all that shit, they don’t hold up too well when faced with adversity. The hilarious thing, that all bikers of the outlaw type have in common is their fear of needles! I had this one giant, fat, bearded individual who threatened the nurse who was about to give him a needle and I told him, “Look, I love violence. If you want to go there stand up and let’s see what you’ve got.”

Of course, then he backs down and starts stammering and I say, “Look, the pretty nurse is going to give you a needle and then you’re going to feel good, okay?”

They honestly behave no different than your typical redneck asshole. There was this one nurse who I really wanted to fuck—I mean she was smoking hot and this Neanderthal biker asshole who broke his hand hitting some other asshole on the head—classic boxer’s fracture—decided to threaten the nurse and then threatens me when I intervene and this nurse is new. I don’t really know her. There is the caveman impulse to impress her, so when he lurches up I knock him out with a heel palm between the eyes and she says to me in disgust, “You’re such an animal!”

It’s shocking how many people are afraid of needles who you would think would be good patients, Body boulders, for instance. I have a lot of body builders who come to me all roided up, scar tissue in their ass from shooting up needles and they are scared to death to take a needle!

Then, not to long ago, I’m driving to work. I’m on a call. I’m in my scrubs and this asshole biker swerves around me, like he’s trying to elicit a fear response. I ignore him and come to the light, whereupon he rolls up to my driver’s side and pounds on the window with his fist, threatening me, telling me he’s going to kick my ass.

So I get out and say, “Be nice. How exactly can I help you,” and he heaves up off his bike, this tall, fat, out-of-shape piece of shit with his tattoos and beard. He was so unfit I used minimal force and put him in a wrist lock. He immediately went to the ground, crying like a toddler who had his toy taken away. He looks at my scrubs, takes my license plate number down and says he’s going to sue. Sure enough, his lawyer comes at me, has researched me, found out I’m a martial arts instructor and a doctor and the sharks are circling. Forget malpractice, I have to keep a lawyer on retainer just to deal with lawsuits from assholes who try to beat me up!