Happy Birthday, Horseshoe Style

We discover we’ve walked right into the 41st Anniversary of this esteemed dive bar. There are a lot of people celebrating. There are a lot of people getting drunk. There are a lot of people who want to buy us drinks. Yay! Our first admirer, Shuffleboarder, walks by on his way to the bar and asks if we need a beer.

We shrug. “Sure!”

He goes to the bar and I lean in. “Should we give him some money?”

Sweet Thang shakes her head. “Oh, no way.”

We get our free beers and Shuffleboarder continues his game over by the shuffleboard table. Just in case you get lost, there’s a neon sign that says “Shuffle board” on the wall above it. My theory is that since the neon store is next door, maybe they got it for free. And that’s why it’s spelled wrong. Because shuffleboard is ONE word, peeps.

This old guy comes over and grabs a framed picture off the wall. We watch him move through the crowd and think it would be hilarious if he walked right out the front door. He does not, but does return in about ten minutes (one free round later) and hangs the picture back up. He explains that the people in the photo are the first Horseshoe Lounge softball team, or some such nonsense. He makes sure to point out which ones are dead.

Sweet Thang and I look glumly at each other over our beers.

“We need something happy to talk about,” I say.

“How about the fact that it’s 5:30 and we’re on our way to being good and drunk?”

“I’ll toast to that.”

We notice a couple next to us that are most definitely in love. Awww, that will improve our moods. They are so affectionate and very cute!

Uh, oh. Shuffleboarder is making his way to the table.

“Ah, the price of a free drink,” Sweet Thang mutters.

He sits down and doesn’t really say much. Okay, well he doesn’t say anything. He’s much drunker than I first thought. Then, “Where are your significant others?”
We answer him and then there’s this really uncomfortable silence. “What are your thoughts?” he asks.

That you’re really annoying, we’re thinking, and instead we tell him we’re having a great time. People keep asking us about this, because we are just sitting like “bumps on a log.” Apparently we look pissed off and bored. I think more likely we’re supposed to be having fun with them and they’re jealous.

Shuffleboarder’s friends come over and cock block and we are mercifully saved.

Red Cap buys us our next couple of rounds. Sweet! He doesn’t even stay to talk, which is even better. There’s a really old man with very flat and pomade-d hair who keeps patting me on the head each time he walks by. Oh, no, Shuffleboarder is coming back. Sweet Thang picks this time to go to the bathroom. Oh dammit.

He’s just staring at me. Dude. Is. Drunk. Luckily, his friend comes back over and tells him it’s time to go.

“But I’m havin’ fun,” Shuffleboard protests.

“Me too,” Friend agrees. “But sometimes you gotta git.”

Yes, yes, sometimes you do. Please, Shuffleboard, git.

Staring at his friend defiantly, he slurps the rest of his beer, removes the koozy and slams the bottle on the table.

“See you later! Thanks for the beer!” I say merrily.

Sweet Thang is still in the bathroom line when three different people lean over the table and ask me, “Did those guys leave?” What, am I his keeper now that he was sitting here not talking for three minutes? Damn! The last guy to roll by the table checks again to see if we’re having fun. Another offer to play shuffleboard. I don’t want to play shuffleboard! I want to scream. I just want to sit here!

Sweet Thang returns just in time to meet a new admirer, who leans in to say something completely unintelligible. He’s pretty drunk and is missing some of his teeth, and Sweet Thang is close enough to notice he smells like vomit. Nice!

“You Never Even Called Me By My Name” by David Allan Coe plays for the second time in about two hours. The whole bar sings along as if we didn’t just hear it.

Red Cap cruises by. “Y’all need a beer?”

We have two unopened ones. “Nope. Thanks.”

“Y’all holler when you want a cold beer, deal?”

“I know where to go when I want a beer and I don’t have any cash,” Sweet Thang says.

Our next visitor is Vomit Guy, who ends his sentence with “ham sandwich.” Say what? He just earned himself a new nickname.

Aw crap. Shuffleboarder’s back! “Chapter two,” Sweet Thang says, “The sequel begins.”

He comes back just as she leaves for the bathroom again. Dude, I cannot talk to this person anymore. He says that he feels like he’s in the way—which he is—and I say we’re just hanging out. And then we sit in silence. And then he gets up and walks away.

Ohhhkay.

The guest book comes around. “I hope I get a card from this,” Sweet Thang says. Tbone of “The Big House on the Hill” is the first signature. We wonder which of our new friends is named Tbone.

While I’m outside talking on the phone, Red Cap comes by the table, compliments Sweet Thang’s pink heels and calls them nutcrackers. We debate this comment. Does it have something to do with actual nuts? Or men?

Ewww gross. The cute couple in love are licking each other’s ears. We’ve progressed from “Awww isn’t that sweet” to “Oh my God, she’s going to blow him at the table.”

Ooooh, now there’s a lady selling roses. Sweet Thang says she’ll be really disappointed if we don’t get one. Inside of eight minutes, someone named “Taz (or Larry)” according to him, buys us each a rose. We are told we’re the prettiest girls in the bar and that we deserve it.

Oh dude. “You Never Even Called Me By My Name” spins on the jukebox aaaagain.

We get one rose from Ham Sandwich and he says we can split it somehow. “Pulled a ham outta the oven. Let me know if you get hungry and we’ll open up a can of something,” he mumbles to Sweet Thang.

After he stumbles away, Sweet Thang looks at me with horror. “He invited us to his house for dinner, Shakira. And you know what else he said? ‘I wouldn’t hurt either one of you.’”

Oh Jesus Christ. That’s not scary at all!

Red Cap is on his way out—um, with his girlfriend?—and leans over to our table. The girlfriend looks on with hate. He says he’s leaving to watch a fight…is it a bar fight? Are we about to get jumped by his girlfriend?

Sweet Thang is making a run to the bathroom when someone from the Disgusting Couple’s table comes over to me. Why do they bother me when I have no backup?!

“Want a shot?”

“No, thanks.”

“How about your friend?”

“We’re leaving.”

“Want a beer?”

“No, we’re fine.”

“I know you’re fine. Do you want a beer?”

“No. We’re done drinking.”

And indeed we should be. Because who’s the latest bar patron? We swear to God it’s Nick Nolte, who um, have you seen him lately? He looks like he’s 104 years old. If he’s in the bar, we might want to go somewhere else lest we turn into him. And then the female half of the Digusting Couple is grabbing his ass. Ewww. Time to go!

What an afternoon….and happy Birthday, Horseshoe Lounge!

-Shakira 02.27.06