Many years ago I was working for a dot com as a senior support technician. I loved my job and tended to spend way too much time there. One day my boss came into my cubical and insisted I take a few days off for R & R and burn a few days of the comp time I had accumulated. Things were slowing down and the timing was great for the department. I remember I was strongly opposed to this at the time. My skepticism was met with a quick call to I.T. The dogs, they cut off my network login, my security badge access to the facility and collapsed my IP Tunnel connecting my lab at home to the tech support lab at work.
Fortunately for me my best friend Charlie had called me the night before and ask me to come up to Twain Heart for a long 4 day weekend, so I called him back and informed him I will leave in the morning. I started my trip by dropping in on my friend Irene, at the cafe classic for a triple white chocolate mocha, that is where this journey to Gold country begins. The trip east went relatively well, consider I was traveling during rush hour on a typical work day. I reached Oakdale as my coffee was beginning to wear off. There is a diner on the main drag called Dave’s. Over the past X numbers of years Charlie and I had stopped at Dave’s countless times, and so it seemed only natural for breakfast. 😉
As I pulled into the parking lot I noticed an old woman crippled with age, in what appeared to be struggling with a heavy door. As I approached her I could eventually tell that she was not struggling with the door at all, she was leaning on it as she emptied her handbag of empty beer cans and vodka bottles. I had to catch her as she fell backwards after stumbling on the transom. I’m not sure she even realized as she made her way through the dining room for the rest rooms in the back.
The place was a ghost town at 8:30 in the morning. There was one large family sitting in the middle of the dining room and three or so people behind the counter. I made my way to the counter and ordered a hot link omelet, an OJ and Budweiser. Yeah, yea I know, but I was on vacation after all. 🙂 I walked over near the window and selected a booth with a view of my car. I was more than a little concerned that the old woman might hit my car pulling out of her parking spot next to mine, but somehow managed to sneak out of there while I was ordering. Gzzz 3 empty beer cans and an empty vodka bottle were laying there adjacent to where her car door would have been.
As I sat there nursing my beer, my focus shifted to the Bundy family. With a few differences in physical characteristics they screamed out that white trash similarities to those on the cast of Married With Children. The older boy turned out to be the boyfriend of the 16 year old daughter, who was on his way to Travis Air Force base, “to die in the war”. The daughter, smoking Hot, easily twice as slutty as Kelly Bundy, what a body! I like to think of myself as a liberal guy, but even I was a little embarrassed with their public display of affection and right across the table from her father too. They couldn’t keep their hands off one another. I’d never seen anyone go at it like that in public, it was like an R rated movie acting out live right in front of me. On the few occasions they took a break for air, she kept going on and on about her new tattoos. That was always followed by the father saying “and they’re quality work too”.
The parents, OMG real prize winners, I’m telling you! I swear the mother looked like Mini Pearl, the only thing missing was the price tag hanging from that ridiculous hat. I’m not too sure about the father. He proudly displayed his plumbers crack, I mean the guy could barely keep his belly in those jeans. He sat there guzzling beer the entire time without ever showing the effects of the alcohol. He had that Meth look about him. He seemed to be in a different place only coming down to earth to make a few descriptive comments about his daughters tats and what a good time they had at the tattoo paler last night. Sounds like a real father, daughter bonding moment if you ask me.
By now I had finished my beer and I really needed something to eat before heading back out on the road. Finally someone came out from the kitchen and walked over to the Bundy’s table. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but the father ordered another beer. The waitress approached my table apologizing for the delays. Apparently there were issues with the stove, they were working on it and hoped to have it fixed shortly. She informed me that they were going to comp me my first beer, but I would have to pay for any more. I thanked her, dropped a buck on the table and headed for the door. I really needed something to eat. I don’t usually drink that early in the morning or on an empty stomach. My eyes started racing along the strip mall just across the parking lot for anything now. I knew I needed to soak up this alcohol or I was going to be facing a DUI before ever reaching Twain Heart. I spotted a greasy spoon; the Steve Austin’s Hell Yea Bar & Grill, and thought at least it was close, so I drove over, parked right in front the door and walked inside.
I found a stool in the center of the bar and ask the bartender for a menu. He said today’s special was the Hell Yea Chili-burger, so I ordered that, a double Jack Daniels and a Budweiser in the bottle, no glass. Now I love a good chili-burger, but I was beginning to having some concerns about this dive! The place was decorated like some white trash version of a WWE wannabe sports bar. There was a TV in the corner with a shoe protruding through the picture tube. The walls were littered with framed B&W pictures that looked as though they were low quality screen caps. The tables and chairs were all miss matched. A couple of the chairs were duck tapped together. Finally the cook came out with my breakfasts. His apron was gross, I doubt it had ever been cleaned, certainly not within the last year. I just ordered another beer and double Jack Black and went for it.
I’m not sure if it was the alcohol, but that chili burger really was delicious, the best I’d ever had!! I got about half way through my meal when low and behold in walks the Bundy family. They sat at a large table behind me, in clear view from the mirror hanging behind the bar. They seemed to be very well known there. The cook came out and talked with them several times. The father was sitting with his back to the bar, so I couldn’t really make out what he was saying, but i gather he ordered a round for the table. Everyone except for the nine year old son was doing tequila shooters. Their conversation headed way down south from the trash talk at Dave’s diner, especially when the shooters began to take effect. By the time I finished up my chili burger the 16 year old stunning little goddess was drunk off her ass. She kept going on and on about her new tats. The cook was practically a fixture at their table by now, ignoring the customers that were beginning to wonder in. Finally I heard the cook say that he would love to see them sometime. The next think I knew she stood, ripped off her painted on top and began to pull down her jeans about mid thigh. Jesus, she was going commando… I almost fell off my bar stool. Her father didn’t say a word, as her mother objected mildly, she just stood there and grinned. It was the bartender who made her get dressed after the longest minute of my life. She was a perfect 10. I have never seen a playmate that looked so fine as this babe, I actually felt guilty lusting over a 16 year old like that, once I realized I was…
As I was sitting in my car, buckling up I noticed a Help Wanted sign on the “Com puter Repare” “We Net work your Buss ness” (yes, that is how they spelled it on shop window), and I remember thinking this whole town was white trash. I should really move here! 😛
I’ve thought about this little stop on my journey to Twain Heart often, but I am still not sure I realize the moral to this story. Is this town the white trash capital of the world? Did I miss my once in a lifetime opportunity to find the perfect job? sigh. we’ll never know.