By Marie Beachdale

Sunday, Feb. 12, 2012, Surfside Beach - Spring in Myrtle Beach is just around the corner, and already my customers are starting to ask me when the bikers will start rolling into town so they can hurry up and get away, but my feelings couldn’t be any different, because as a server, I anxiously await Bike Week.

“Don’t you just hate having all of them in here causing trouble for a week?”

If I had a dollar for every time a customer asked me that when talking about Bike Week, I could probably buy the company I work for.

I count down the days until May, because Bike Week is the one and only week when I love what I do every single day.   

I’m not sure who started stereotyping individuals on Harleys as some kind of disorderly delinquents that women and children need to hide from. I work in a “family oriented” restaurant, and the men and women who come in the doors by the dozens during the rally have never caused a conflict in my five years of serving them.  

In fact, families and bikers coexist peacefully in the restaurant. I get the impression that diners from out of town who have never experienced the rally think that when bikers come in to eat they start throwing beer bottles and leave the place a mess. Not true.   

Last year during the Myrtle Beach bike rally, I served an eight-top of men and women who were riding Harleys. They came in with a smile, asked my name immediately and ordered tons of drinks and appetizers. Their bill was nearing $100 before they ordered meals.

While they were eating, the restaurant was full of other bikers as well as typical vacationers with children. For such a large group they were incredibly respectful and easy to take care of.  

By the time the bikers finished their meal, the restaurant had cleared out. They hung out for a while and talked with me, complimenting me on my service and asking me questions about Bike Week events.

When I dropped off their checks, they told me they had something they wanted to share with me and asked me to sit down. One of the men pulled out a chair for me, and the group burst into song. They serenaded me with a made-up tune using my name over and over again, and ended the song by thanking me once more.  

They were fun, goofy, and an overall joy to serve, but I was shocked when I picked up their check after they left.  

Their bill was around $170. They paid with a credit card, and underneath the signed paper was a crisp $100 bill. I inspected it in disbelief, thinking it was one of those “prank” bills with a message on the other side.
It was real.  And to date it is the largest tip I ever received from one table.

Everything about that table perfectly sums up what I love about bike week.  Bikers bring business-- and good business, at that.  They are fun, friendly and generous, and there will never be a time when I won’t look forward to their business.

This year, when diners start rolling their eyes at the mention of Bike Week, I won’t hesitate to disagree, and let them know that I miss the days when Myrtle Beach Bike Week was in full force.

It’s only February, but as a server and resident of the Grand Strand I can honestly say-- I can’t wait for May.  

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