A Gunman Had a Young Waitress at His Mercy — Then an Old Biker Walked Through the Door

The man with the gun turned his head toward me and said, “Sit down old man. Or I’ll put you in the ground right next to her.” And then he cocked the hammer and pressed the barrel against her forehead.

I didn’t sit down.

I walked to the counter. Pulled out a stool. Let the legs scrape loud against the floor. And I sat right there. Five feet from the gun.

“Coffee,” I said. To the girl. Like nothing was happening.

She stared at me. Tears still running. Lips trembling.