A Stranger Called This Man A Dirty Biker, So He Revealed His True Identity Online

You can’t help but feel sorry for Perreault, right? After all, no one likes to be insulted – especially by people you don’t even know! Where did this incident take place, though? Well, it happened at a Tim Hortons in the Great White North.

Yes, Perreault is a resident of Sudbury in Ontario, Canada. He was no doubt familiar with Tim Hortons, yet something tells us this particular trip was unlike any other he’d taken before. And we’re not just referring to the stranger’s insult! So, why was he actually there?

According to the website Little Things, Perreault was actually in the process of testing out his mother’s bike at the time. The love of two-wheeled motors must run in the family! Anyway, after putting the vehicle through its paces on the road, he opted to stop off at Tim Hortons to recharge his own batteries.

Perreault may have expected a few looks when he first walked into the establishment that day. As we suggested earlier, Perreault is the type of dude you’d picture in your head if someone asked you to visualize a biker. And to be fair to the Ontario resident, he recognizes that himself.

In fact, Perreault provided a rather vivid description of his appearance in a Facebook post. He wrote, “I am a big 280-pound guy with motorcycles and full of tattoos. I am a welder, I am loud, I drink beer, I swear and I look like I would eat your soul if you stare at me wrong.”

Anyway, Perreault still strolled into Tim Hortons like any other customer after parking his mom’s motor up. But then something unexpected happened, according to Little Things. As the Canadian biker was waiting around in the restaurant, a young girl couldn’t take her eyes off him. She was transfixed by his appearance – not terrified.

Maybe it was down to the innocence of youth. Or it could be that the youngster simply looked past the “soul-eating” perception and saw a cool-looking guy who looked a little different to everyone else. What do you think? Either way, Perreault noticed her stares, and it led to a rather heartwarming moment between the pair.

Yes, the small girl broke the ice with Perreault by saying “hi.” She also shot the biker an innocent grin to boot. What did he do in return, then? Well, he responded like any other person would when they’re greeted! Without hesitation, the Canadian said, “Hello.” Her soul was safe!

Unfortunately for Perreault, though, this nice moment was quickly tarnished. Before he knew it, the youngster’s mom pulled her away from him. Could his appearance have spooked her? It’s certainly possible. But then, the woman’s intentions became very clear when she spoke to her daughter.

Apparently, the mom said, “We don’t talk to dirty bikers.” Ouch! And to make matters worse, Perreault overheard the exchange. Talk about a gut-punch. Mind you, he appeared to brush off the cruel insult. The Ontario resident then returned to his mother’s bike and drove away from the Tim Hortons.

Yet that didn’t prove to be the end of it. You see, the mom’s words were still ringing in Perreault’s ears as the day went on. It’d be fair to say that they actually struck a pretty deep nerve. So, he decided to share what happened via a social media post and dropped some surprising truth bombs.

As it turned out, Perreault wanted to set the record straight about the kind of man he was. Sure, he admitted previously that his appearance was intimidating, but there was more to him than that. Are you ready to hear his words? Okay then. Buckle up for some unexpected twists and turns!

Perreault wrote on Facebook, “To the family in the red SUV at Tim Hortons today, what you don’t know is that I have been happily married for 11 years [and] my kids call me daddy. I am a college graduate, my mother is proud of me and tells everyone how lucky she is to have such a wonderful son.”

There was more to come, though. Perreault continued, “My nieces and nephews are always happy to see their m’noncl Luc. [And] when my daughter broke her arm, I cried more than she did.” We don’t know about you, but we’re not seeing a monstrous, soul-eating biker here. Far from it, in fact.

To add to that, Perreault then wrote, “I read books, I help people, I go out of my way to thank war veterans. And I even cried at [the end of] Armageddon.” Yes, the Michael Bay film. We doubt he’s alone in that regard – plenty of guys have shed a few tears watching that movie!

Anyway, after sharing that insight about himself, Perreault had one last thing to say. He added, “So next time I smile and say hi to your little girl and you grab her and [say], ‘No no dear we don’t talk to dirty bikers,’ remember that even though you hurt my feelings. This ‘dirty biker’ would be the first person to run into your burning house to save your little girl’s goldfish so she wouldn’t be sad!”

That’s quite a way to end it! But something tells us that Perreault didn’t see the next part coming. After posting his message on Facebook in July 2013 it soon went viral and has earned roughly 4,200 shares at the time of writing. It also garnered plenty of supportive comments – with one in particular standing out.

A Facebook user wrote, “You tell them Luc! You’re an awesome guy, there’s nothing you can do about stupid people. I just feel bad for the way they are raising their children to judge people before getting to know who they really are.” As the comments continued to flood in, though, Perreault typed one up himself with some final thoughts.

Perreault said, “Thanks for the wonderful words, I always knew there were great people out here, but I thought [that] stereotyping was a thing of the past!" While there was no doubt from his Facebook readers that Luc was a good guy it is hard for a lot of people to move past those stereotypes when it comes to bikers. Even Luc admits that the history of gangs and violence among bikers is very real.

It wasn't actually until the late 60s that people's attitudes about bikers started to soften. Perreault gives all the credit for that to writer Hunter S, Thompson. Prior to his classic Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, the up-and-coming writer risked life and limb to profile the infamous Hells Angels. Thompson knew there were a thousand reasons not to do it, but the truth about their unhinged culture was too good of a story to pass up.

While many people viewed bikers — especially Hells Angles — as a group of thugs, Thompson told his editor that there was a certain mystique beneath their rough surface. After World War II shattered the ideals of the previous era, Thompson believed the bikers were either looking for an opportunity or "vengeance for not getting an opportunity." He was also intrigued by the terrible accusations against them.

Thomas C. Lynch, the attorney general of California, had recently documented the Hells Angels' criminal activity in the damning Lynch Report. He claimed that in 1964, the gang committed "1,116 homicides, 12,448 aggravated assaults, 6,257 sex offenses, and 24,532 burglaries." Thompson, however, didn't believe that all the numbers added up. He called it "colorful, interesting, heavily biased and consistently alarming."

For one thing, by his best estimates there were only a couple hundred Hells Angels operating in California. Could such a small group really be responsible for thousands of heinous acts? Thompson intended to find out. He ran the pitch by his editor at The Nation, Carey McWilliams, but there was one major roadblock with his biker story.

The Hells Angels hated journalists. Or any outsiders really. Thompson didn't exactly blend in with that crowd — he didn't have the long hair, tattoos, or rough-and-tumble manners — so going undercover wasn't an option. Instead, in 1965, he approached the gang and introduced himself as a member of the press. As Thompson met their wary gazes, he hoped not to get socked in the face.

But the outlaws cautiously accepted Thompson into their midst. He lived among them for the next two weeks and documented his experiences in an article titled, "The Motorcycle Gangs: Losers and Outsiders," for The Nation. Following that first printing, it was clear that the journalist's Hells Angels experiment was growing into something bigger.

Right off the bat, Thompson realized that California was scapegoating the gang. He wrote, "The net result of the general howl and publicity has been to obscure and avoid the real issues by invoking a savage conspiracy of bogeymen and conning the public into thinking all will be 'business as usual' once this fearsome snake is scotched." Granted, these bikers were far from innocent.

In their quest to live free on America's highways, the Hells Angels often stepped on the toes of respectable society. They heartily partook in drugs, alcohol, and sexual pleasure. Though they didn't often resort to murder, the outlaws were known to disturb the peace, vandalize, intimidate innocents, and launch into brawls at the slightest hint of provocation. Thompson really wanted to figure out what made them tick.

With two weeks of observation, Thompson had only scratched the surface. The success of his piece in The Nation inspired him to plan a full-length book, a first for him, about the Hells Angels. He left his trendy San Francisco home — he happened to live across the street from the Grateful Dead — and hit the road to live with a much rougher crowd.

The rebel writer was no stranger to blowing past the speed limit on his own motorcycle or drinking until he could barely stand up, but he found that the Angels were in another league entirely. He did his best to hold his own against one of the gang's leaders and most notorious members.

At first, Sonny Barger showed a begrudging respect for Thompson, whose knack for chasing down authentic stories set him apart from other reporters. "God only knows what he's writin', but he's good people," Sonny said at the time. Thompson too was surprised when he learned what the average Hells Angel was truly like.

For starters, these wanderers were rarely sober. Besides a steady diet of marijuana and alcohol, Thompson found the Angels were pill fiends. They constantly tossed back capsules of all colors, balancing out uppers with downers as they pushed their motors to maximum speed. To add another element of danger, many carried weapons at all times.

The bikers looked big and scary, sure, but Thompson was struck by how down-on-their-luck many seemed. Steady employment was rare in the gang, as few had the skills or demeanor to land a real career even if they wanted to. Instead, they scraped by thanks to the financial support of their wives or girlfriends, or by doing odd jobs here and there. Some jobs were odder than others.

The Angels were misfits, men without a shot at a real future. So it was no surprise that they were willing to use their muscle for borderline legal operations. One popular side gig was collecting payments for moneylenders — or loan sharks, to put it less nicely. A biker nicknamed Tiny shared the tricks of the trade with Thompson.

Surprisingly, violence rarely entered the equation. Tiny explained a gruff phone call to pay up within 24 hours usually settled the matter. This was the collector's Plan B: "Once in a while I get a wise-ass trying to give me the runaround... then I pick up a couple of guys, lay a few bucks on 'em for the help, and we go out to see the punk. That always does it. I never had to stomp anybody yet."

Thompson discovered there was a central paradox at the heart of the Hells Angels. "They just try to live peaceful lives and be left alone, but on the other hand they go out and put themselves into situations deliberately and constantly that are either going to humiliate somebody else or cause them to avoid humiliation by fighting," he wrote.

One reason why they found themselves so often in conflict was because they scared the bejesus out of every town they visited. Locals feared for their lives whenever they saw the Hells Angels patch. That tension skyrocketed when the group set up camp at California's Bass Lake for the Fourth of July. They promised law enforcement there would be no trouble, but then the bikers ran out of beer...

That wouldn't do, so a few Angels collected money and went into town for a beer run. But when they reached the local shopping center, they encountered a hundred-man armed militia. Believing the bikers were coming in to trash their town, the locals prepared to fight them off by whatever means necessary. That put Thompson in an impossible situation.

"I wasn't sure who to be afraid of, whether the Angels were going to hit me with chain whips from behind or the locals from in front, or where to turn my back, or anything," he remembered. Luckily, the Angels' leadership came in to defuse the situation. Sonny Barger barked at the sheriff about how "close he was to havin' a war on his hands." When the bikers did fight, it was a frightening event.

He described, "The Angels inhabit a world in which violence is as common as spilled beer, and they live with it as easily as ski bums live with the risk of broken legs. This casual acceptance of bloodletting is a key to the terror they inspire in the squares." The outbreak of that bloodshed was often unpredictable.

Thompson learned that lesson the hard way. Even though he was largely accepted by the Angels, he certainly wasn't one of them. When he crossed a line, they made him pay for it. That bloody incident unfolded when the journalist spotted one drunken member, named Junkie George, striking his wife and dog. Thompson stepped in to intervene.

That was a major no-no. The furious biker turned his attention to the meddling reporter, and soon enough Thompson was rolled up in a ball with an entire group of Angels kicking him to pieces. It was an explicit bylaw in their code: "When an Angel punches a non-Angel, all other Angels will participate."

Tiny eventually pulled a bloodied Thompson out of the fray, which was good timing, because the wife-beating Junkie George had been aiming a 20-pound rock at the writer's head just moments earlier. That marked his last day with the gang. Barger and the other leaders sent Thompson packing — though they never thought to take away his notes.

Thompson returned to San Francisco in sorry shape. Besides his frail condition, his landlord had evicted him after being absent for so many months. Other writers might have given up, but Thompson believed he had a bestseller on his hands. He got to work compiling his year with the Hells Angels, and plenty of people took notice.

Hell's Angels: The Strange and Terrible Saga of the Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs hit the shelves in 1967 and became an overnight sensation. As he ran through the wild lifestyle of the bikers, he reflected, "I was no longer sure whether I was doing research on the Hell's Angels or being slowly absorbed by them." He published scenes that readers never could have imagined.

For instance, Thompson pointed out how poor hygiene was a proud tenet of the Angel way of life. Members rarely bathed and once they received their "originals" — the official vest and jeans that made up the club uniform — the bikers wore them until they literally fell apart. Then there was the matter of member initiation...

Thompson claimed new Angels were brought in through a baptism of sorts. That sounds nice at first, except that these rituals didn't involve water. Instead, he said the initiation involved a pail of human waste. Thompson wrote that bikers solemnly stood "naked while the bucket of slop is poured over them and the others stomp it in."

If that image sounds hard to believe, that's because Thompson either made it up or embellished it — a technique he'd often lean on in his later writings. His penchant for exaggeration certainly boosted sales, but it also upset many people. That included the subjects of his book.

Sonny Barger felt particularly betrayed, since he'd vouched for Thompson early on. He denounced the "weenie" journalist as "all show and no go" and shared his own version of many of the events in the controversial book. He insisted that the baptism description was pure fiction, for one thing.

Barger also suggested that Thompson wasn't as tough or cool as he made himself out to be. Supposedly, the journalist cowered in his car when the bikers faced an army of townspeople at Bass Lake, and then he invented some details about getting beaten up to give his book an exciting ending.

That backlash had the potential to sink Thompson's career, especially since he was a wreck during his promotional tour. The hard-partying writer appeared at signings and speaking events barely able to remember his own name. In large part, he was drinking because his publishing deal gave him mere crumbs from the fortune that his book was making.

Thompson did right the ship — relatively speaking — and established himself as a literary rockstar with his blurring of journalism and fiction. Meanwhile, the Hells Angels became even more infamous in the following years. Their reputation took a major hit after bikers murdered a teenager during a 1969 Rolling Stones concert at the Altamont Speedway, and the organization has tried to keep a lower profile ever since.