I'll admit it. I'll talk to guys in the restroom, especially if neither of us are pissing. But let's start at the beginning. I had a change of plans for my evening, finding myself in Newaygo of all places. A play was cancelled due to a tragic accident. Instead of driving south for Grand Rapids or out to Howard City for Zellies Opera House and the Steelhead Lounge, I saw plenty of cars at Jimmy's Roadhouse, including two limo buses. So I went in. I was fresh off the road so I asked the hostess if I were going in the right direction. She pointed left and said "The bar was over there". I answered, "I would have to be quite a tool to not see the well light bar over there." "Well, people ask all the time," she explained. So, I asked, "Where's the john?" And she pointed it out. Turns out, the bar has just been moved from the south end of the bar to the north.
So in the john, some rock and roll dude from the Eighties asked me, "Did you hear about the actress who had just been stabbed? Reese?" "Oh my God! Is she all right. Reese Witherspoon?" "No, with a knife." And then we were friends and he introduced me to his wife, his daughter, his daughter's friend, his buddy, the bar manager and one of the bus drivers. And hearing of my plan of driving out to the Steelhead Lounge in Howard City, he insisted I go dine at the Driftwood Inn, on the shore of one of the Muskegon River lakes. His buddy was playing with the band "Main Street" and he would introduce me to him, a genius of business, software design and a lead guitar that didn't suck. I just trying to decide if I am driving or rolling around the Manistee National Forest on one of these buses.
Speaking about bands that don't suck, I am drinking PBR and having my hair blown back by "Back Up Plan". I guess there's a breakfast buffet at Midnight so I might not have to drive any where.
That's the word from north of Grand Rapids, the Snohola season, where we like it cold.
No comments:
Post a Comment