Best 21st birthday gift

Diamonds -- and bikers named Lucifer -- can be a girl's best friend

I moved our cars the other day to avoid receiving a street sweeping ticket. Using my wife's keys to do the job, I saw the lone charm on her key ring. This simple bauble has been with her for a very long time. I don't ever see her parting with it.

Twenty-nine years ago, spending what little money I had on jewelry was out of the question. Affording something nice now wouldn't be a problem but I think in her eyes even the Hope diamond would pale in comparison with this piece of "jewelry" given to her by a complete stranger. Such is the strength of sentimental value.

It was her 21st birthday and a night of barhopping with friends was planned. When one turns 21, the pub crawl along with the obligatory cake and candles is essential to complete this rite of passage.

After dinner, dancing and drinks at a few nightclubs, our last stop was a notorious biker bar known as Flo's in Carlsbad. Our companions had left for the night, so it was just the two of us.

This joint was a regular stop for me and my buddies but for Carol the idea of capping off a birthday night at this den of iniquity seemed less than appealing.

"Are you sure about this?" she said.

"Come on, it's fine."

Inside the smoky dive were the usual two beat-up pool tables, the usual pictures of Eddie the owner/bartender and former ranked middleweight boxer on the walls, and the usual bikers. A most unusual setting to celebrate No. 21.

After ordering a bottle of beer it didn't take long for me to be shooting pool with one of the patrons. He was tall with long hair, beard and wore his colors, "Outlaws So. Cal."

We chatted about nothing in particular while Carol watched uneasily from a nearby table. She wasn't drinking. Two drinks has always been her limit. We finished our game and bellied up to the bar. Eddie opened two more beers. Carol was quickly at my side.

"This your girl?" asked the biker.

"Yeah. This is Carol. I'm Neil," I said.

I had noticed him eyeing her as we played pool. Maybe he hadn't seen us come in together. Maybe he did and didn't care. We were about the same size so if it came down to protecting her from unwanted advances I was capable of holding my own. I wasn't looking forward to trouble.

"Hi, I'm Lucifer," he said, offering his hand to Carol and then me.

That's right. A biker named Lucifer in this hellhole. How fitting.

"So, what brings you to Flo's?" he said.

It was obvious we weren't bikers.

"It's her 21st birthday. Just out having a couple of drinks."

"Is that right? It's really your 21st birthday?" he asked Carol, who nodded and answered with a nervous "Y-yes."

"Well you know what I'm gonna do, Carol?" he said.

He reached down next to the bowie knife sheathed at his hip, at which point I was ready to step in between him and Carol. Then he pulled up the chain that was attached to his wallet.

"I'm gonna give you a birthday present," he said.

And with that announcement he unfastened one of the many trinkets that adorned the chain.

"This diamond pin is for you, Carol, on your 21st birthday."

A guy named Lucifer is giving my girl a diamond pin? Did I hear right?

He held out his fist and gently placed in Carol's hand a safety pin with a dime welded to it. A dime-on-pin.

Carol was all smiles over the gift. I was relieved there wasn't a fight. Lucifer started howling with laughter.

The evening ended after many more beers and as many well-wishes for Carol on reaching this milestone.

As I stare at this tiny token the phrase, "Diamonds are forever," comes to mind. But I have a feeling this little gem will be around much longer than that.

Neil Proffitt is a 22-year Redondo Beach resident and a warehouse worker in Marina del Rey.

Columnist John Bogert is on vacation.