Sleazy Roadhouse

A while back, I had arranged to go to a movie with a friend, but nothing good was playing, so I suggested we go to a sleazy roadhouse instead. We ended up at a place called Jiggy's, and it was the sleazy roadhouse of my dreams. A couple of TVs, a pool table, a juke box, a few characters drinking beer out of the bottle. Next to me was a big guy, two sheets to the wind, with an eyepatch, and his companion, a feisty chick about five feet tall. She described lovingly to me her drag racing car, which she was selling because she couldn't afford to keep it.

Tonight I met the same friend at Jiggy's--a convenient half-way point for us--to show off my new camera. The same parking slot was empty, so I pulled right in. A couple of fellows were standing in the open doorway, from which a cheerful buzz issued. I walked in and noticed my friend sitting at the same stool as last time, so I took my old place, too. Across the bar, Eyepatch and Drag Racer were examining a styrofoam carton of Chinese takeout.

The bartender came right over to me. "Gin and tonic, short glass, one rock, lime?" he inquired. Jeez, Louise! Am I becoming a regular??