Fear and intimidation. When I go to a titty bar and see a biker carding at the door, and a large contingent hanging out, wearing colors, I drink a lil more moderately, and my eyes are always scanning the joint. I also know that I may have to share my drugs in order to save my ass. I prefer to trade drugs with them, like the explorers giving indians beads and rum.
_________________________
Thinking of cracked-out and/or tweaking whores getting their throats and asses brutalized for the next hit makes me hard. --Rear Admiral