“To the family in the red SUV at Tim Hortons today —
Yes, I’m a big guy. 280 lbs. I ride motorcycles. I’ve got tattoos. I weld for a living. I’m loud. I drink beer. I swear. I don’t dress like the person in a business suit. I probably look like I could eat you if you stared at me wrong.
Here’s what you don’t know: I’ve been happily married for 11 years. My kids call me “daddy.” I’m a college grad. My mom brags about me. My nieces and nephews light up when they see me. When my daughter broke her arm, I cried more than she did. I read books. I help people. I go out of my way to thank veterans. I cried during Armageddon.
So when I smiled at your little girl and said hello, and you snatched her close and hissed, “No, no dear — we don’t talk to dirty bikers,” yeah — that stung.
But here’s the thing: that “dirty biker” would be the first one to run into your burning house to save your daughter’s goldfish if it made her smile. I’d do it without hesitation.
Judging a book by its cover doesn’t keep anyone safe. It just teaches kids to fear what they don’t understand.”
Credit -shady_et via Thread~