strange days at the Exhaust Pipe
We rolled up to the Exhaust Pipe for a couple of drinks. It's a bar close to my house which has been made out of an old gas station. Over the bar they have the front end of an old car on the wall with headlights that actually work.Colonel Frank was with me. He had just moved into the house. He wasn't a Colonel, but everyone called him Colonel Frank for some reason. He was a tennis pro with some sort of abiding love for Budweiser. Budweiser gives me a headache. Col. Frank had sucked down enough of them in the last four hours to moisten most of the state, which is why I was at the helm of his SUV.
We got out and went inside. There was one person at the bar, the bartender, and the waittress whom I had plans on taking out.
The Colonel and I sat down at the bar and started drinking. He began chatting with the lady at the bar, and I looked past him at her.
Shockingly, she reminded me strongly of The Lady Chablis of Savannah, GA. Some of you may remember her playing herself in the movie Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, with Kevin Spacey and John Cusak. The real Lady Chablis is a transvestite. I don't think the lookalike at the bar was a transvestite, but she did have some rather stragely-arrayed teeth. None of this seemed to deter the Colonel. He was offering her tennis lessons.
I engaged in some bar bets with the bartender while the Colonel hit on the Lady, and the waitress banged some cups around, trying to attract attention to herself. I know that game though. I ignored her.
"Do you love your mama?" the Lady asked me around the Colonel.
"Oh, absolutely." I told her.
"That's good, you're a good boy, yes"
"Yeah she's a cancer survivor"
"Oh my goodness, well you tell her to be strong doll, you hear?"
"I will,"
The waitress banged a few more things around and flounced over to my end of the bar.
"Why do you hate me?" she asked.
"Do I?"
She flounced off, and her long brown curls bounced up and down. She pretended to bang her knee in the corner, and screamed at the top of her lungs. I ignored her.
I fucked off to the other end of the bar to call J Rock and see if he was joining us. While I was on the phone, the other kooky waitress of Exhaust Pipe fame showed up with a cable installer from Connecticut she had met earlier. She was entirely off her rocker, as evidenced by the broken beer bottle in her coat pocket. She stumbled in and babbled something unintelligible at me while I was trying to talk to J Rock, so I danced at her.
Sometimes when people try to communicate things to me that I do not understand, I just dance, hoping they will become confused and go away. It worked, this time.
"We're going to the Love Shack next," I heard the Colonel telling the Lady, "You coming with us?". I winced. My flouncy waittress and her beautiful hair came over and hugged me. I gave her directions to the next bar.
I was in for a strange night, by the looks of things, but at least I had a pretty waittress coming to meet me.
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