This Troper has a scary real life example of this trope being played straight. Her middle school music teacher's sister as well as a distant friend and her husband of her parents got involved with motorcycles in their thirties, started a local bike club, and even ran a small Harley merch store. Aside from this, they were very normal people. She thought nothing of it until later this year when they were both murdered in their house by a Hell's Angels guy because they stiffed someone in a drug deal.

ThisTropers high school Spanish teacher always wore nice polo shirts everyday. However, he drove a Harley most of the time. And showed at every school function in full-on Hell's Angels gear. Sleveless leather jacket, bicep tatoos, bandana, denim pants, you name it. He also had a massive PornStache.

My dad and his friends challenged the Hells Angels (the '''real''' ones) to fight outside a pub after one of them made one of his mates' spill his drink. I'm ''dead serious''. They didn't actually fight because the Angels [[CrowningMomentOfAwesome respected them for having the balls to challenge them in the first place and bought them a drink.]]

On this troper's parents' first date, they had engine trouble and pulled off at a gas station. A group of bikers noticed their trouble and decided to give them an escort to their destination. Along the way, a slowpoke motorist pulled in front of the car, so a biker drove along side it, tapped on the window, and motioned for the car to give way. The driver obeyed, they made it to their destination, and the date was saved.

This troper's family is a giant subversion. Yes, the troper's father looks like a 'baby eater', according to one of my exes, but he is a textbook example of someone owning a traditional cruiser; he is a retired professional who has a decent amount of money and who works on minor stuff on his bike with his friends. He is part of a 'biker' gang, but their shtick is being part of the armed forces and at least visiting specific highways. And yes, his bike is a Harley. Her mother rides as well, though not a Harley, and she is a normal woman who uses The Killer Rabbit because it has better gas mileage. The oldest brother rides and looks sort of like the stereotype, but he is a teddy bear. The troper herself doesn't count; she rides a Vespa.

This troper had a run in with a bunch of bikers at a resteraunt when he was only 5 years old. Now, according to the tale, these were a table full of large, leather clad gentlemen with beards to their belt-buckles, laughing it up and smoking cigars despite the plain no-smoking signs. So this troper, flush with all the righteous indignation a 5 year old can hold, walked straight up to them and told them "You really shouldn't be smoking in here". The biggest of them looked down at me, stared hard, then burst into laughing, saying "You're right. We really shouldn't." Then they put out their cigars and my until-that-moment terrified grandparents bundled me back to my seat. There wasn't a lick of trouble from them afterwards.

This reminds me of something that happened to me at a restaurant when I was about six. One of several bearded bikers helped get this mini troper's balloon down from the ceiling, by climbing up on top of a table.

This Tropher went to see the British Grand Prix back in 1995 and since I was only 6 at the time I obviously had a hard time seeing anything. A couple of bikers offered to let me sit with them and allow me to see. To this day I wonder why bikers seem to get so much stick. They are great people who only get pissed off when someone decides to start trouble, then they make the troublemaker regret it. A few other friends share this point of view.

This troper was stationed in South Korea, and ran into a Korean Harley gang while staying at a hostel one weekend. They were all decked out in the stereotypical leather and chains. When this (blond-haired, blue-eyed, American) troper passed one of them in the parking lot, the biker bowed politely and cheerfully exclaimed, "An yeong ha seyo!" (traditional Korean greeting). It was all this troper could do not to burst out laughing.

When this troper was very young my parents and I went out to dinner and ACTUAL Hell's Angels (New York Chapter) were in the restaurant. There were about five or six of them, but they were very quiet, talking amongst themselves (with the occasional outburst of laughter), and were very respectful to the waitstaff. Many years later I worked in an office and one of the accountants while in suit and tie during the week showed us several pictures of him and his son sitting on his Harley with him dressed in full biker gear.

This troper goes to church with a member of a motorcycle gang called The Sons of God. Yes, they're just what they sound like: Motorcyclist missionaries. They go to shows and love their Harleys and dress the same as any other biker... they just happen to love Jesus.

Similar story at this Troper's church, the leader is actually one of the lighting techs.

This Troper's road trip to see Mt. Rushmore happened to coincide with one of the largest annual Biker Rallies in North America. All the roadside diners were packed with Leather clad motorcycle enthusiasts that could be overheard discussing how their Insurance or Real Estate practices were doing, and the current state of their [=IRAs=].

This Troper spent most of high school on the back of her friend's motorcycle and actually got escorted to her 16th birthday by a group of Hell's Angels by default of them falling in with the three of us on our way to Los Angeles. They even bought us breakfast!

This troper's friend was at a restaurant when her dad saw bikers, and started bashing them. So she then yelled at him that they're probably nice people. Then before her dad could say anything, the biker held open the door. He then talked with them and was super nice.

This troper's father worked at a fish store when he was a kid. One day, he sold some guy some eel, and the guy came back whining and complaining about the quality of the eel (which actually, was fine), ending with him throwing the eel back into my father's 14-year-old face. The guy turned around, and there were about 3 bikers. They demanded that the man apologize to my father. The man refused. The three bikers grabbed the guy, and literally threw him out of the store. They then apologized to my father and gave him a $5 tip for dealing with the guy. (in 1977)

This troper's parents got married at the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally twenty somthin years ago. And my mother is that poster-girl from that Women Bikers poster (shown in a lot of history shows on bikers, always saying she's unknown). Both parents go to Sturgis every summer. Best part? They're millionaires living in a gated community in Laguna Beach. Biker tough.

Subverted in this guy's experience. Most Harley bikers in his local area are men in their mid-life crisis who just ride on the weekends.