So Andy and I are at the bar Friday night for the $500 dart tournament. We rarely get out to these anymore and thought since this was a kid-free zone all weekend we'd venture out into the snow and go play darts.
Now this is a whole-in-the-wall Redneck bar with a bunch of drunk old farts, random trailer trash chicks wearing way too much makeup and prancing about in their coochie cuttin jeans. My friend is the bartender there and she's brought in a younger crowd, plus the "dart peeps" are there... and if you've ever played darts or seen a tournament, this is an entirely different world of people lol.
Well you mix all these folks up and you've got my favorite bar in town. The drinks are strong and cheap, the company is good for a laugh, and there is darts and karaoke every Friday night! I love it!
So my good ole boy Rusty is perched on his usual spot at the bar. He's like "Norm" from Cheers. He's a totally sarcastic, always drunk, rather rotund man who looks to be in his 50s. For some reason when I first started coming to this bar, Rusty took a liking to me and he's been my protector of sorts. He might be big, and he might be a drunk ole fart, but he can kick some bar butt!
I'm on my way to the juke box b/c Andy wants to hear "Country Boy Can Survive", one of his dart playing mojo songs he loves to hear. Rusty pulls me over to him and starts yapping about a new shot he's been doing at the bar. Now, he's a Jager kind of man and I couldn't imagine him venturing off.
Rusty: Denise, you've got to try this one. It's a Chewbacca.
Me: Like Star Wars Chewbacca? Ok what's in it? (I'm always game for a new shot!)
Rusty: Hell I don't know. All I know is I had three of them the other night and it did for me what 10 Jager's would do...
Me: Well you know Rusty, you have a Jager-tolerance like no other. NOBODY can put away Jager like you. Is this shot gonna put me on my ass?
Rusty: No no, it's good. And it's sweet too. It was so sweet I had to have a lemon. Don't even need a chaser. C'mon just try one with me.
Me: I'm going to ask Cathy (the bartender) what's in it. I don't trust you. You're just trying to get me drunk so I'll try out your new bath towels! (Long story - maybe I'll share that one another time LOL)
So I meander over to Cathy ask what the hell Rusty is talking about:
Me: Cathy, he says he's got a new shot for me...a Chewbacca.
Cathy: A what?
Me: A Chewbacca. What's in it?
Cathy: Never heard of it. Where did he get it?
Rusty: C'mon Cathy. It's that damn shot you've been giving me for the last three nights!
Immediately Cathy cracks up. Rusty and I are standing there looking stupid because we don't get it.
Cathy: That's TUACA Rusty, not CHEWBACCA!
After I finished pointing and laughing at Rusty, I bought him a Chewbacca. He wasn't lying, it is Yum!
2 comments:
Maybe he thought is was a chewbacca because it left a bit of fur on his tongue the next day? ;)
Hee hee. Cute story!
It hard to remember funky names of drinks when you're hammered!
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